The Ultimate Debate, Hal and Brett
by Alfonsina.d
Summary: Hal & Brett's story. This IS a love story, just not that kind of love story. Guest written epilogue: Adalind, Bluzkat, deb wsf, Harmne, Katbaby, Katie, Magdalync, Redlamps, Robin, Spudmom, Tiina,Tuck. My plot bunnies present it to you, really. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: No MM have been harmed in the creation of these situations. Well, not intentionally. Thanks to JE for providing us with such lovely characters to play with. I promise to clean off the jello from the boys when I'm done with them ... it may be a while._

_Thanks to those of you who shoot jello on a regular basis and who know that Hal will ultimately survive all of this. Without your support, I would never have tried to play with any of them. Cat, all kudos to you - and Hal wants you to know that he likes Cherry Jello the best, said you'd understand why._

**The Ultimate Debate: Which is better?  
By Alfonsina**

"Hal, man, you're just proving your ignorance, again," he said to me.

"I am not. It's a matter of personal taste and preference. We don't have to agree on everything, do we?" I asked.

"No, but if you were a smart man, Hal, you'd agree with me."

Ass wipe.

"This is the whole po-tay-to po-tah-to thing isn't it? We don't have to agree on everything just because you think you're right," I said. I was beginning to lose my patience with Brett. He was being pompous, arrogant and a royal pain in the ass.

"You are missing the point, she's sexier," he said.

For the love of all that is holy. Who really cared about this crap anyway?

"I'd rather have wholesome than sexy."

"You don't know how to live. It's pretty obvious," he said, "the only reasonable choice is Ginger."

"MaryAnne."

"Ginger."

"Look, it was just a television show from forever ago. You do know that those are just actresses, right?" Sometimes Brett really isn't that smart.

"Yeah, but Ginger was really hot."

"She wasn't smart or even that nice, really."

"Man, you think she was shallow. She wasn't a gold digger," Brett said sounding a big indignant. "If she were, she would have tried to break up the Howell's marriage."

"Yeah, but MaryAnne could cook. Food's an important thing if you are on a desert island."

I got an IM on my blackberry. It read: _How's the stakeout?_

The IM was from George. George was relatively new to Rangeman and was based in the Boston office. Computer department, I think, the liaison between the field offices and Silvio. They were looking for bugs in a new search program. Evidently the field office workers weren't succinct enough for Silvio and so complaints, problems and questions were being routed through George.

I resent having to go through someone to talk to Silvio; I have a degree in computer science and built websites for fun and profit during my off time. I just happened to like being in the field. Now I had to deal with a snot nosed newbie for the computer stuff in addition to being stuck with Brett for the night.

I texted back: "_Slow night. I'm in the middle of the ultimate debate with Brett."_

_"I give, what's the ultimate debate?"_

_"Ginger or MaryAnne."_

I hoped that Brett would keep his mouth shut, he tends to tattle on whoever was with him and not following procedure 100%. I really didn't want to get stuck on monitor duty.

Lester had ruined it for all of us. He'd been texting one of the many girlfriends and missed out on an easy apprehension. Since then, Ranger considered texting to be giving less than full attention to the job at hand, namely watching for the skip.

I got another text: _"Change the playing field and ask who's better, Wilma or Betty?"_

Sounded good and it would keep me from the Ginger MaryAnne thing again.

"So Brett, who do you like better, Wilma or Betty?"

"Betty was totally hot; an incredible babe."

He's got to be kidding, right?

"Dude, you are so wrong. If you like Ginger, you've got to like Wilma; they are both redheads. If you like Betty, you've got to like MaryAnne." I personally didn't care one way or the other, but it took the burden off of me and I wouldn't have to justify my reasoning to him any more.

"Nah, man. It isn't like that. Betty is more fun and she's got the cute giggle. Ginger has all that cleavage. No contest."

How much longer was I going to be stuck in the truck with this bozo anyway? Forever.

"Brett, what exactly do you do with your free time anyway?"

"I watch the classics on TV. And I like Ethel better than Lucy if you are keeping score; looks like Ethel knows how to make some killer fudge or some chocolate chip cookies."

"Based on Ethel's figure, she probably knew how to eat those things, not necessarily make them."

He sighed and looked at me like I was the biggest idiot he'd ever encountered.

"You wanna walk the perimeter while I stay in the truck?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll be back in fifteen," I said grabbing my jacket and checking my flashlight. Even though the flashlight is a standard part of the equipment on the utility belt, the batteries sometimes go dead. I'd been left in the dark a couple of times because I'd forgotten to check the flashlight before I went on shift. I had a checklist now, but I still did a double check before I went anywhere.

"Paranoid much?" Brett asked.

Nope. I wasn't paranoid, but I sure the hell wasn't going to fall in a ditch again because I couldn't see where I was walking.

I got halfway around the building when my blackberry went off again. It said: _"So? Wilma or Betty?"_

I smiled, George wasn't any better than Brett. I sent a message back that said, _"He likes Betty."_

I finished walking the perimeter, checked the fence line and returned to the rig.

"Anything?" I asked as I climbed back into the truck.

"It's about as exciting as watching paint dry," Brett said.

"Only an hour left then Caesar and Zip spell us." Thank God. I couldn't wait to be out of there and anywhere else with anyone else.

"Since we've got some time, which do you like better, peanut butter or chocolate?"

"Peanut butter," I said with a sigh.

"You really don't know how to live do you? You can do so much with chocolate. It takes the edge off a bad day, it melts in your mouth, you can melt it and cover fruit in it…"

I was starting to feel like I was living in a scene out of Forest Gump. You know the one where he's on the bus on his way to basic training and the kid next to him is going on about shrimp, except this was all about chocolate. If I had answered chocolate, would he be extolling the virtues of peanut butter?

"Peanut butter is shelf stable, a good source of protein and I like how it tastes," I said, though why I was continuing to engage him I really didn't know.

"Chunky or smooth?"

Good Lord, was this ever going to end?

"Does it matter?"

"Sure, if you are going to bake with it you might want smooth. If you've got bad teeth, you might want smooth."

"In that case, I like smooth peanut butter."

"But what's wrong with chunky? Don't you like having a little texture in your food?"

Wasn't this shift ever going to end?

"Brett?"

"Yeah?"

"Back when you were in high school, were you a member of the debate club?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," I said blowing out a sigh. Only 58 minutes left until I could get the hell out of here.

_TBC …._

_

* * *

A/N: Each of the MM have been in search of a story that's just for them … Hal and Brett will be sharing this one … and yes, the debates are the like the beat, it goes on … Alf._


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers are all the same.

Thanks to the members of the Jell-o pit, the boys have a great time there!

My personal debate: which flavor of jello is better? It is a debate Hal and Brett haven 't gone into yet.

**The Ultimate Debate  
by Alfonsina**

"Diets suck." I mumbled.

"You don't look like you need to lose any weight," Brett said. "Hal, why are you on a diet? Can't be a new year's type resolution can it?"

I guess I wasn't as quiet or as alone in the break room as I thought. Actually, it was my birthday resolution, from _last year_. I had planned to lose ten pounds this year, not too large a number to be difficult to manage, not too small as to be insignificant.

I blew out a sigh of disgust, "I've got unsightly bulges that will show through my sweaters now that cooler weather is here."

"So that's why you've been getting into the whole Indian Summer thing?"

"Yeah."

In the perfect weather, around 70 or so, I could wear loose button downs that didn't cling. I didn't need long johns under my pants that made them cling funny and I could disguise my figure flaws.

"You know, that Twinkie in your hand isn't really helping your cause," he said.

_Jerk, just because it was true._

I put the Twinkie and my almost empty Sprite can in the trash; this wasn't helping my mood at all. I was about to head to my desk when I was stopped by Brett. He opened a small beige box, the one he keeps his contraband in, and asked, "Which is better strawberry or cinnamon?"

_I don't care because it isn't mine and I have one month until my freaking birthday goal goes met or unmet._

"Excuse me?"

"Pop-tart flavor. Strawberry or cinnamon?"

"Chocolate."

"I don't have a chocolate one," he said gazing into his box. "Do you have one you'd sell me for a buck?"

"Nope. Got to get back to work."

I signed back onto my computer getting ready for another long session monitoring a lot of nothing at the low end accounts. I had already done my monitor time this month, but _somebody_ was a tattletale and told Ranger I'd texted on a surveillance shift so now I had to check my electronic devices at the door for the next two weeks. What the hell was this, high school? One of these days Brett was going to realize just how lucky he is that he's still able to breath without one of those machines.

I had an IM from George: _Hey, any problems on the new search algorithm?_

_Nope_.

Why the hell does George bother me anyway?

_Heard you got busted to monitor duty._

_It wasn't my fault. Somebody texted me and I was polite and responded._

Silence. So now I'd probably pissed off George and I was going to stare at empty jewelry and electronics stores all night. I decided that I'd make my list of things I needed to do to shed the freaking ten pounds.

Why the hell don't I ever plan for things? Why do I feel like crap when I don't make my goals? Oh yeah, planning would help with that. So would actual goals, as a matter of fact.

OK, so I might do better on this particular session if I got the HoHo out of my mouth. If I wasn't careful, I was going to look like a trussed turkey and need to lose twenty pounds instead of the original ten.

"Bored yet?" Brett asked.

It's been a freaking five minutes since the last time I saw him. No way I can admit to boredom now.

"Nope. Just making sure things are quiet on all the job sites."

"Still, it's boring," he said cracking his gum in my ear. Damn gum probably wasn't even sugarless.

"Did you want something, Brett?"

"Yeah, I can't make the new program work."

"Why didn't you just ask that?"

"Because, Hal, you've been in a really crappy mood since we did surveillance together and I don't want to add fuel to the fire."

I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest. I raised my head and looked at him like he was an idiot. Actually he is an idiot, he was hired because he's strong and a good shot, plus he takes orders really well. Unfortunately he doesn't always have an off button, he's been known to follow Stephanie around for two solid days without sleeping or eating , not realizing he only had to do an eight hour shift. He'd been exploited a couple of times for that before Ranger found out; someone, who shall remain nameless, got the joy of scrubbing the gym floor with a toothbrush for two days after that – it was worth it.

"So what happens when you try to run it?"

"Nothing. I can't get it to even load on my computer."

"Didn't you follow the e-mail instructions on how to install it?"

"What instructions?"

Perfect. That was just what I wanted to hear.

"How many searches are you backed up?"

"Twenty-five. No, I think it's twenty-four," he said giving me a very pained look. "No, definitely it is twenty-five."

"Do you want me to install it for you and set it up with your passwords or do you want me to contact George so he can walk you through it?"

"Who's George?"

One day, Brett was going to have to rely on himself and not the kindness of strangers and he was going to have to learn to use e-mail as well as the other programs on the computer.

"George is the person we're supposed to go through instead of calling Silvio when there's a computer issue."

"I found a chocolate Pop-tart," he said.

"And?"

"I'll give it to you if you install the program for me. I'll watch the monitors until you get done."

"Show me the Pop-tart first."

This right here, right now, is why I never lose any weight. I think Brett keeps his desk salted with contraband as well as the break room. I think that this is part of the weight loss issue.

He pulled it from his back pocket. Now it was crumpled and broken, but it was still chocolate and part of my weakness. Damn it.

"Fine," I said as I took it from his hand. "I'll even send George an e-mail once it's installed."

"Cool. Hey, which is better Ding-Dongs or HoHos?"

The great debate with Brett is never going to end, is it?

* * *

A/N: Hal has been and will continue to be long suffering ... and we've only just begun. Reviews always seem to soothe Hal's ego and prevent him from serious bodily injury on Brett.

Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Alf


	3. Chapter 3

The usual disclaimers apply - and no MM have been harmed in the making of this story ... though Hal is at the end of his rope some days.

To the Jello pit - thanks for the support - and pass the shooters.

**The Ultimate Debate  
Chapter 03  
By Alfonsina**

If I'd been alone, I wouldn't have had any problems with the menu. If I'd been alone, I would have ordered grease on a bun with an order of catsup on the side, oh and a chocolate milkshake, small. I am cutting back, a little.

Was I alone? No. I am still being punished by the gods who rule over electronic devices and protect their idiot users, I was at lunch with Brett. Normally while I don't hate Brett, I don't seek him out either. I tried to ditch him, but feel like I owed him lunch since I _accidentally_ deleted his Sports Illustrated Bikini Edition Screen Saver. I was still smarting from having him hoisted on me for what felt like forever and I'd been lashing out. It isn't like he was the one who loaded it anyway, it was a pirated copy from Lester.

"Can you lend me five bucks for lunch?" he asked.

"Sure," I sighed realizing I didn't have any cash money with me. At least this place took plastic. I just hate to have to debit such a small amount, it hardly makes the bookwork worth it later; I usually forget and then fight when I balance out at the end of the month. I should probably look into getting one of those little gift card things for myself, I come here enough.

"Which do you think is healthier, the burger or the chicken sandwich?" he asked.

I wanted to beat my head on the steering wheel, I wanted to beat my head against the window, I wanted to leave Brett where he was and let him walk back to the office.

"Burger is better," I said. I'd actually read the nutritional facts on a website somewhere explaining what the 'best' choices were at a place like this.

"But chicken is what they always recommend when you're dieting," he said looking at me like he'd been eyeing my love handles.

"Do you want to go in and look at the nutritional guide they have to post now?" I bit out. I really didn't want to debate with him again. "We only have twenty minutes before we're due back at the office."

The line for the cars was long, but the crowd inside appeared to be longer.

"I just can't make up my mind," he said. "I want health, nutrition and something fast." At least he wasn't announcing he wanted sex, drugs and rock and roll.

There's got to be some way for me to survive working with Brett and 1) not go grey before my 28th birthday and 2) not pull each hair out of my head individually as a way to handle my frustration.

"We're going in," I said as I pulled the truck out of the line and found a parking space.

"But do we have enough time," he started. "You said …"

"Never mind what I said. We're going inside." I pulled out my cell phone and called Tank. "Got a minor delay, we'll be back in about 40 more. Yeah, I'll get you an ice cream cone."

"Cranky much?" Brett asked.

The small chocolate shake was just upgraded to the large. The burger went from one patty to two. The fries were no longer just the _snack size_ and were now the _extra value_ size. OK, fine. I do know why I can't lose that extra ten pounds, the problem isn't exercise or diet. I actually do know how to eat. The problem is Brett. If I can get rid of Brett I can not only lose 180 pounds of unwanted bulk, but I can shed that pesky ten that are sitting around my middle before my birthday.

~x~x~

I've done a lot of thinking about the difference between Brett and me. He was probably made of Teflon; nothing, ever, sticks to him. Me? I'm probably made of cast iron; I have to be properly seasoned and lubricated to get the best results.

"Dude," he said.

Articulate much, Brett?

Last night, we had once again been paired to work a surveillance shift together. Because it is almost Christmas, I deigned to have the radio on during our vigil. His words still echoed in my ears.

"God, you are so old fashioned and _boring_," he'd said.

True enough. I am not trendy, I know this. I prefer to think of myself as classic. Classics don't have to worry about the current trends. Existing is supposed to be good enough for the classics, right? Well, once in a while a new coat of paint is good or new upholstery, but overall the classics stand the test of time. Dylan was a classic, so were the Stones, Marilyn Monroe and Paul Newman; no one messed with them or called them boring. Did they?

"It stays on Christmas music," I huffed. I didn't want to listen to hip hop or death metal in the car tonight, or any night, really. I'd kind of figured he'd go along with Christmas music.

"Can we at least take it off of the orchestral channel? I like to sing along to the tunes and sometimes I forget the words."

This was coming from a man who couldn't remember all the words to Jose Feliciano's "Feliz Navidad". You know the song has like a handful of words: Feliz navidad. Prospero ano nuevo y felicidad. That's pretty much all of it and the song goes on forever. Brett had been trying to sing along only he was singing "The police have my car. The police have my car." I guess if you are drunk, hearing impaired and tone deaf it wasn't all that bad but I'm none of those things.

"Fine. But no singing in the car." I would brook no arguments nor would I allow myself to be pushed into _another_ interminable debate. I turned it to the other All Christmas All the Time radio station and hoped I wasn't deaf at the end of the night.

If I couldn't check text messages and get the world news, he couldn't sing. Simple Besides, I didn't think the glass would survive if he sang, he might break it with his voice.

"Tell you what, I won't sing here but I need for you to help me when we get back to Haywood, it shouldn't take you that long."

"Whatever."

Right now all that mattered was peace, quiet and the end of the shift. Only three hours and fifty minutes to go, and counting.

The shift ended with Brett humming along to Alvin and The Chipmunks. I will probably die with the sound of that song playing in my head, or worse, God will torture me with it and it will become the soundtrack to my dreams. At least he wasn't trying to sing 'All I want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth"; he couldn't hum that one and kept mouthing the words. I am going to have to look into a way to bribe Tank so I don't have to do Brett duty anymore.

I really wished the perp had shown up or had done something _anything_ to break the monotony. In so many ways this job is like being a cop; you work and train like hell hoping the worst never happens and when it does, you feel like you've got your pants around your ankles. Instead, I got to watch a bottle blond mouth the words, incorrectly may I add, to Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

~x~x~

We got back to the office, filed our reports and headed back to the fourth floor.

"Can you help me now?" Brett asked.

I remembered that I'd offered to help him with something, but I had no real idea what it was.

"Sure, I guess."

"Great."

Hey, one of us was in a good mood.

"What do you need help with?" I asked as we arrived at his door.

"I'm on vacation starting," he said looking at his watch, "now. And I need some help packing my bag."

He opened his door and I looked inside and wanted to just keep walking. It looked like his closet had exploded all over the living room floor. Scratch that, all over the living room. I saw underwear and socks on every surface, not to mention economy sized boxes of condoms.

He had one suitcase and one carry on. It looked like there was no way he'd get everything in that he wanted to take, not without a miracle.

"… so I saw these vacuum storage bags on TV and thought it'd be a great idea to get me packed," he was saying.

"So you won't need my help," I said backing out the door again.

"Yeah, I do. I don't have a vacuum. I need for you to suck the air out of the bags so I can carry more stuff with me."

"Just how long are you going to be gone?"

"Ten days."

"Do laundry while you're there," I said before I realized I'd just opened another debate.

"Too troublesome to do it that way. Besides, I'm not planning on taking everything back with me when it is over."

"So you see your clothes as being 'disposable'?"

"Nope, I'm seeing them as souvenirs. Any hot chick who has the fortune of getting with me while I'm gone can have any item of clothing I'm wearing when we meet."

That's one way to cut down on laundry.

"Besides, it isn't like I'm going to wear it again. This stuff is all from _last season_."

OK. My estimation of Brett has fallen again. He's blond, young, a little too skinny, dim witted, convinced he'll give Lester a run for his money, _and_ he's a fashion victim.

So instead of complaining and begging off, I decided to be adult. I helped him sort his clothing into those stupid bags. In so doing, I learned a little too much about Brett. Who knew they made mesh jockeys? How many thongs did he need? _Evidently the number was 15. _Just how many grooming products did one man need to take on vacation? _Enough to fill the overnight bag and overflow into the checked bag._

After two hours, I got most of the air out of the bags by using pressure and rolling them. I wasn't going to suck the air out, that was just a little too weird for me.

I got everything into the bag but it was still too full, despite the compression techniques I used.

"Sit on it," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Sit on my bag to squish things down the rest of the way."

"Take out a couple boxes of condoms. They take up a lot of room."

"An unplanned kid takes a lot of money out of my checkbook. Condoms stay."

We went through other things that could be removed; everything was deemed important and mission critical.

"Sit on it," he insisted again.

God is he ever irksome.

"You sit on it."

"You weigh more."

That stung and it was true. I now only needed to lose 9.25 pounds in the next week to make my weight loss goal. Too much time with Brett had negatively impacted my waistline.

"Fine."

I sat on the bag and it did decompress just enough that it would have zipped. I sat for five minutes while he looked at me and did nothing.

"Zip it," I finally said. "I want to go to bed."

"I thought you could zip it."

"Zip it."

Christ, he was dense, helpless and stupid.

He finally pulled on the zipper and got everything closed.

I got off the bag and headed for the door. "Night man. Have a good time."

" Hal, can you take me to the airport? I forgot to call the shuttle."

Please let him have a late flight, please. If he has a late flight it'll conflict with my schedule and someone else will have to do it.

"Sure." No sooner had the words left my mouth than I realized what an absolute idiot I am. I saw him pick up his carry on and other bag and head to the door.

"Kind of need to leave now, man. Flight's in three hours and it's an hour to Newark."

Perfect. No longer will I be so easily convinced to do the right thing for Brett. The right thing felt like punishment.

We drove to the airport in silence. I let him play the radio on any channel and he could sing along as loudly as he wanted. I figured the clamor would keep me awake, sort of. If nothing else it would distract me. I could put something quiet on when he got out.

We were still five minutes from the airport when I decided to get a question of my own answered.

"So, Brett, how long did you want me to help you?"

"Since I booked the trip. I'm lousy at packing."

"How did you get through boot camp?"

"I did it because I had to and then flushed the knowledge. You know I was just a reservist, right?" _I'd forgotten that, but whatever. _"Besides, usually I have a girlfriend pack me."

"Why not this time?"

"No girlfriend this year."

OK.

I got him to the passenger drop off and was anxious to pull out into traffic. I only had four hours before my next shift and I wanted to be awake for it.

As Brett got out he said in a quiet voice, "Hal, I travel on all the holidays because I don't have any friends. Actually, I didn't until I found you. You're the best friend I've had for years. It's why I keep asking Tank to schedule us together. I don't fit in and you are the only one of the guys who doesn't make me feel like an outcast. Thanks for letting me hang with you."

What do you say to that? Nothing. I grunted and gave him a nod and a small smile. Besides, we weren't hanging, we were always working. Weren't we?

As he got out of the SUV, I said, "Safe journeys. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Hal." With that, Brett joined the throngs of last minute travelers hoping to escape their lives for the holidays.

* * *

A/N: Hal is not broken yet, really. His waist line won't continue to expand, really - but it is the topic of conversation on a regular basis. Next chapter will be explain the true and ultimate debate. Thanks for soothing Hal's nerves by reading and reviewing. Alf.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimers, yada yada yada ... no one was hurt, no one is making any money, Hal is about to have a breakdown and Brett is still clueless

A/N: This is the ultimate debate in the lives of most men ... this is where the real fun begins, hope you enjoy.

**The Ultimate Debate: Moaners vs. Screamers**

**By Alfonsina**

"Dude."

"Don't talk. Don't say one f-ing word to me."

"But."

"No. We are being exiled to Boston because of you. This is all your fault."

Granted it was just for a few days, but Brett and I were now driving to Beantown in a 'g'-ing snowstorm. Actually I was driving and he was being himself; oblivious, annoying and obtuse.

Since I didn't lose the weight I'd wanted to this year, I resolved this year I'd give up swearing. Unless it is absolutely necessary, explicatives aren't really all that important; satisfying yes, necessary, no. I'd decided to change tactics; I was using letters to explain just how mad I was. "F" is self explanatory, but the more frustrated I get, the higher I get on the alphabet. So far, I was still in the first octave, but I'd soon escalate.

We were quiet until he decided to play with the radio; I had planned to disconnect it before the drive and forgot about it. Now it was too late, I'd be stuck listening to whatever he wanted to for the next several hours. I'm personally an aficionado of audiobook or talk radio; I don't follow trends and words really aren't that trendy.

Somewhere around New Haven, he tried again.

"I didn't think that anyone else would know. I figured this would be our little secret. At least it was Tank who busted us and not Ranger. If Ranger had busted us, I doubt we'd be out of the hospital right about now."

"I had poor timing, I shouldn't be painted with the same brush you are."

"Yeah, but you really wanted to know, didn't you?"

I didn't want to admit it to Brett, much less to myself, but yes, I'd been curious. Lester had been bragging in the break room one day that he could get any woman to moan his name. Somehow the conversation wound around to which was better, a woman who screamed, moaned, talked, giggled, gasped or was quiet.

Everyone had an opinion, the majority wanted a moaner. Cal stated it best: a moaner is kind of like a screamer with a dimmer switch and you didn't have to worry about keeping up with conversation.

Brett decreed that screamers were the best. You'd know exactly how good you were if they couldn't talk the next day. He seemed to equate volume with performance capability and a technical review. Did the man make love wearing ear plugs? Was this really all that important? Obviously, yes, it was to Brett.

Personally, I go for quiet gaspers. I was with a woman once who was so loud her neighbors called the police. Not that a little vocal recognition for a solid performance isn't lovely, I just don't want to go deaf in the process. Plus if she's got kids, they aren't as likely to wake up if it is just gasping.

Now, I was praying that the snow storm didn't escalate and become a full on blizzard. I really prefer to drive in the rain, but it can't rain all the time. Thinking back on it, it would have been best if I'd just called in sick that day.

Now no matter what I did with Brett or where we were, he'd look at a woman and say, "Screamer", "Gasper" or "Moaner". He had an opinion on how he thought each woman would respond in bed. I know it was just conjecture, but he really didn't have the chops to back it up.

If Lester had been expressing his opinion, it would most likely be based on personal experience and not a guess. Lester had bedded a bevy of beauties from the tri-state area and could remember names, faces, preferences, and which brand of condom he used with which partner. His recollection was amazing; he could probably write better letters for Penthouse than the fiction they publish.

Why should any of this be such a big deal? Easy, Brett let his curiosity get the better of him. He _needed_ to know about Stephanie. His curiosity was consuming him, he was obsessed by his compulsion. Why couldn't he be compulsive on the job or learning to use his computer?

I'm sure we all thought about it and wondered about her. But the rest of us valued our own skin and our jobs. It could just remain an unsolved mystery.

Unfortunately, I now know. Tank knows and so does Brett. I can only conjecture a guess that Ranger knows, but there's no way I'd ever ask him.

How did we three find out? That really is the $64,000 question, you know? Brett broke into Steph's apartment and slipped in a number of bugs. These weren't just standard bugs, they were incredibly sensitive. According to Brett, he'd be able to hear her shaving her legs and know whether or not she'd need a new blade.

Brett didn't want to take too many risks, or so he said. Isn't bugging her 'h'-ing apartment enough? He decided he'd just tune in a couple of times to a live feed. If there was no recording of it, it would be no harm, no foul. He'd retrieve the bugs and no one would be the wiser.

Two nights ago, we were supposed to relieve Caesar and Binky on a surveillance shift. Normally, we just meet in the control room and head out in a company rig. He was late by fifteen minutes. I called and he didn't pick up his phone; either landline or his cell. I didn't want to wait any more, so I headed back to four and pounded on his door.

I was about to get the passkey so I could get in. Brett might've had an accident or something. He could have fallen and knocked himself out; actually that was just wishful thinking on my part.

I was about to head back to the elevator when I spotted Tank in the hallway. He always had a passkey. I explained the situation and he opened the door for me.

There Brett was, sitting on the sofa wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist and a smile.

"Shh," he said putting his fingers to his lips. "It's getting really good now. The volume is all the way up."

"What the 'f' are you listening to?" I asked.

That's when it happened. Over the surround sound came a noise. It was soft and breathy at first. "Oooh." There was a significant pause followed by the sound of someone sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. Then there was an "Ahhh." The sound of it stretched out forever. It was low and very involved. Probably her 'ah' had twelve syllables in it. God it was erotic.

I hadn't realized it, but I was drawn all the way into the room and I sat on his sofa. Tank followed me in but didn't sit.

"Is that?" Tank started to ask.

"Uh-huh," Brett said. "Now I can die a happy man."

Probably he could die a happy man. If anyone else knew about this, he'd die slowly and painfully after Stephanie plucked every hair follicle on his entire body with tweezers. Waxing wouldn't last long enough to make her happy; I'm sure of it.

"Fuck. You know you actually have a job and this isn't it. It is no one's business how Stephanie responds to anything," Tank said. This is one time when the use of the actual 'f' word really was justified no matter who was using it.

"But it sounds like she's just warming up. I'd love to know how long this can go on," Brett said.

So would I but there are responsibilities to be honored, privacy to be protected, and my skin to save.

"Get dressed. You need to get to the job site half an hour ago," snarled Tank. "We'll talk about this in the morning."

Brett reluctantly left the room and pulled on his uniform.

While Brett was changing, I said, "I thought Ranger was out of town."

"He is."

"S," I said.

"S?"

"Didn't really think it deserved a 'shit' just yet."

"Oh."

"What about Morelli?"

"Morelli has moved on to more amenable pastures," Tank said.

"So this is?"

"Bad. This is very, very bad."

No kidding. It would have been bad if it had been Steph with Morelli, in some regards far worse if she was making these sounds for Ranger. I was envying the guy she was with.

"God, that's sooooo gooooooood," came the voice and more of those breathy sounds.

"Fuck," I said.

"No shit."

Brett rejoined us and said, "Did I miss anything?"

I shook my head. No way was I going to listen to any more and no reason for him to torture himself.

"I'll lock up," said Tank. Sure he would. Tank would probably wait until the entire performance was over and shake hands with the devil tonight.

"Why haven't I tried this before?" sounded over the speakers. "It's soooo gooood."

~x~x~

We sat watching a warehouse until our asses were numb and I no longer wanted to kill Brett. I figured that Tank would do a much better job than I ever could.

"Theory confirmed," he said sounding a bit too smug.

"Theory?"

"Yeah, Steph is a moaner. A damn sexy moaner. I've got fodder for fantasies that'll last me for weeks."

Me too, but no way was I going to admit that to Brett.

~x~x~

The next morning, I was in the office extra early. I hadn't slept much and decided I'd make good use of my time getting on top of my weekly reports.

"Good morning," Stephanie said as she breezed past me to her cube. She looked happy and relaxed. She was even humming a little to herself.

"Morning. You sound chipper this morning," I said.

"I am. I had an amazing night."

"Good for you. I didn't think you were on schedule for today."

"I'm not. Tank asked me to drop in this morning. He said he had something special he wanted to go over with me."

I'd never see her smile at me again. Cordial office relations were now going to die, and it was going to be a painful death. Although, knowing that Brett was guiltier than I was made me smile a little.

I buried my nose in my report and didn't look up again until Brett tapped me on the shoulder. He looked like we were heading to the gallows. I still had hopes of walking out of Tank's office with all of my teeth and minimal bruising.

We headed to our doom slowly and in silence.

Tank was standing in front of his door to make sure we didn't bolt. He ushered us inside and closed the door.

"Explain," Tank said quietly.

Brett did his best to explain his curiosity and the fact that it wasn't a recorded event.

"And you?" Tank asked looking at me.

"What about me?"

"You knew about it, didn't you?"

"Sort of." I prefer to be more articulate, but the words were escaping me.

"Elaborate."

"I knew he was curious and that he'd dropped a fortune on some new audio equipment, but I didn't know what it was for or how he'd employ it."

"You did so," Brett piped up.

Wonderful.

"Excuse me?" I asked turning to look at him.

"You knew. I told you my plans a couple of nights ago when were at the gym," he said.

"But I don't ever listen to you," I started to say.

Tank leveled me a look that told me I was now in as much trouble as Brett was.

"You don't listen to your partner?" Tank asked.

Great. Open mouth, tell the truth and more than the truth comes out.

"It isn't like that. I listen to him when we're on shift. When he's running his mouth other times, I just let it in one ear and out the other." It was a skill I'd developed as a child. I'd hear my sisters talking about the same thing with a boy over and over and after a while it just sounded like birds in the background. I treated Brett the same way for my own protection.

Tank was furious.

"You can't tune him out. He's a savant of sorts. He has unexpected information that comes out when you least expect it. We've solved a lot of things because he's put pieces together that no one else thought about," Tank said.

Crap. I mean, "H".

"Sorry," I said to both of them.

"You are complicit in this, you know that don't you Hal?"

F G H I J K L M N O P, I'd have gone higher, but Tank was waiting for me to say something.

"No. I didn't think I was complicit. I figured I'd be absolved because I just walked in on the situation."

"You had the opportunity to tell me or Ranger what was going on and you said nothing. This could have been avoided."

Now I was probably going to need to interview plastic surgeons to have my nose reset after Tank or Ranger breaks it. Now I was going to have to look for a new job. Now I was going to have to relocate. Now I was going to have to apologize to Stephanie for inadvertently invading her privacy.

"… she has a special place here and she is to be respected at all times," Tank said to both of us. I'm sure whatever he'd been saying before this was important but I had no idea what it was.

"Can you at least tell us what the punishment is going to be?" Brett asked trying to hide behind me.

"Because it is cold and flu season and Boston has been especially hard hit, you are both going to fill in for a few days at their office."

That didn't sound so bad.

"Additionally, George has a distraction that you two will be perfect for. It's going to be George's first op, and your expertise will be valuable."

At least I'm finally going to get to meet George.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Stephanie will be in charge of packing additional items you'll need while you are there. She is also going to be making arrangements for your accommodations."

"Why can't we stay at the Rangeman office?" Brett asked.

"They are understaffed due to illness, all their apartments are utilized."

Maybe we'll wind up staying somewhere swank. I haven't been to Boston in an age; this could be good in an unintentional kind of a way.

"Dismissed," Tank said. He picked up his phone and dialed four digits. "Hey, Steph? Can you come in my office for a couple of minutes? Great."

We exited and headed down the stairs to avoid looking Stephanie in the eyes.

~x~x~

To be continued....

* * *

now, don't you want to know what the fallout is going to be? hmm? thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... Alf.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers: all the same, no one making money, hurt, injured or otherwise ... well, maybe Hal's ego has been impacted negatively, but Brett didn't really mean it.

many thanks to the jell-o pit, thanks for the support. Orange jellow shots, ladies? I'm buying.

**The Ultimate Debate – Boston take 2  
By Alf.**

The drive to Boston had been boring, really. I mean we didn't pass any major accidents, we weren't stuck in a blizzard and the radio died so I didn't have to listen to his music anymore.

We checked into the Rangeman office and been given assignments. It was truly a case of same job, different scenery. Since Ranger wasn't here all the time, the break room had what was considered to be contraband in Trenton, oatmeal cookies. So they were homemade and probably with all organic ingredients, but they were cookies with tiny chocolate morsels in them. I think I may have to move to Boston considering that chocolate isn't on the banned list here.

It was nearly midnight when we headed to the hotel. It was one of those business affairs that has an office/sitting room and a separate sleeping area. At least that's what their internet advertisement had said.

"May I help you?" the brunette running the front desk asked Brett.

"Yeah, Liz, reservations for Rangeman," he said.

He'd obviously read her name tag but she blushed despite it. She started typing furiously and was making faces at the screen.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing in the system under that name. Could there be another name?"

Brett gave her his last name, Davidson. Nothing there. Nothing under my last name, Day. She worried her lip and ran her hands through her hair, not an encouraging sign.

"I see that there was a reservation, but it was only on a hold and when you didn't check in by six, we considered it canceled. We've sold your rooms," she said.

"No one guaranteed the rooms?" I asked. Surely that couldn't be the case. Whenever Tank had rooms booked, they were always guaranteed to the company credit card.

"Do you have anything at all?" Brett asked turning on his smile. "Just one teenie, little bitty room that no one would know about?"

Eww. I didn't really want to be witnessing this, but maybe this was part of what Tank wanted me to learn from Brett. Never mind, probably not.

"Nothing," she said frowning at him.

He took her hand and smiled at her. "Isn't there anything at all? We only need one room."

Usually his approach worked, all women seemed to love Brett.

"No."

"Any rooms that have been guaranteed but haven't checked in yet?" he asked gracing her with an even more dazzling smile. He wasn't giving up his line of questioning and she kept blushing. Maybe I was watching a master, then again, this is Brett and he is the master of hair gel some days.

"I couldn't tell you that even if I wanted to."

"Any place you can recommend that might have a vacancy?" I asked. I was tired and just wanted a pillow and a soft bed.

"Let me make a phone call," she said. She pulled out her cell phone and pushed a couple of buttons. "Hey, gorgeous. It's me." Pause. "Yeah, I know it's late, but you love me anyway." Pause. "I've got a problem. A couple of guests lost their room reservation and need a place for," she looked at us and said, "how many nights?" I held up four fingers. "Four nights. Can you swing that?" Pause. "It'll have to do. I'll send them over. Thanks lovie."

She started writing fast and furiously. "Do either of you know Boston?"

We both shook our heads. This was working out perfectly. Strange city at night and snow; without a GPS at night we'd be completely sunk.

"I'll print out a map and everything you'll need. This time of night, there'll be no traffic. You should be able to get there in about twenty minutes."

We were given a map with instructions and a phone number.

"It's a little B&B, normally they're completely booked. I'd say you got lucky," Liz said.

~x~x~

"This is going to be so much fun," Brett said as we climbed back into the SUV.

I was too tired to answer him, so he kept talking.

"I want to do all the touristy things while we're here. I want to go to Jefferson's house, Mount Vernon."

"Mount Vernon belonged to Washington and it's in Virginia. You're thinking about Monticello."

"Sure, we can do that then."

"I wasn't clear, that's in Virginia, too."

"How about Benjamin Franklin? I've heard he was here a lot," he said starting to sound kind of down in the mouth.

"Tell you what, how about Paul Revere?"

"Who?"

"He made tea pots? The midnight ride?"

"Can we do it together?"

"Sure. But you do know we're here to work, right?"

"Yeah, but we can have fun too, right?"

"I guess. Help me find this place on the GPS will you?"

~x~x~

We pulled up in front of a quaint little Victorian house that matched the address. We pulled our bags out of the SUV and headed for the front door.

The door flew open and a tall, lithe man greeted us.

"You two must be the ones Liz sent over."

We nodded.

"Come in, come in. Let's get you all settled."

I schlepped my bags and Brett's bags while he went to the front desk.

"I'm Larry, proprietor, and you are?" he asked us.

"I'm Brett Davis and this is my partner, Hal Day."

"Partners?" he asked.

"Sure," Brett said.

"Since you are partners, there won't be a problem. We only have one room available. If you weren't partners, we'd have a bit of a sticky wicket on our hands."

I hope the room's big and has two beds.

"Are you staying with us long?" Larry asked while he completed some paperwork.

"As long as it takes," Brett said surrendering _my_ company credit card. "Legal issues to deal with and all that."

There was one specific contract with Rangeman which required a defined level of coverage. Due to so many employees being out with the flu, the company was in breech until Brett and I showed up.

"I understand. Say no more," Larry said putting his finger to the side of his nose. "You'll be in room 13."

Brett took the offered key and asked, "What time does breakfast start?"

"Seven and is over around ten."

~x~x~

Brett bounded up the stairs, opened the door, turned on the light and whistled.

"Dude," he said over his shoulder. "You're never going to believe this."

"What?"

"It's amazing but I hope we can change rooms soon."

I hope we can get separate rooms some place closer to the office tomorrow.

I continued up the stairs struggling with all the bags and dropped them when the room came before my eyes. It was done in early Austin Powers. I mean the room had shag carpeting, lava lamps, a big wet bar, mirrors on the ceiling, and a round bed. ONE round bed.

"I've got dibs on the bed," Brett said.

"No. I drove all day and worked. You napped for three hours on the ride up."

"But."

"No buts. I have the bed tonight and if we have to stay an extra night, I'll take the floor. Go see if Larry has some extra pillows or blankets."

Instead of traipsing down the stairs, Brett opened the closet and found two additional pillows and a small thermal blanket. Looks like Brett will get to sleep in sweats tonight.

~x~x~

The alarm was set for 5:30 but that isn't what woke me. I woke to a distinctively damp sensation on my shoulder and the sound of someone snoring. According to the digital display on the night stand, it was 2:30 AM. I did a little evaluation and remembered I wasn't home, I knew I wasn't alone, and I haven't had a date in a while so who could this be? That's when I realized there was only one person who could be drooling on me. Brett.

Brett?

F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T

"Brett," I hissed shoving him off my shoulder.

"Whaaa?"

"You are supposed to be on the floor."

"I got cold and this is a big bed."

It isn't that big a bed. I like the middle and the whole bed is the middle, sort of.

"Tough it out."

"Don't wanna. You're ruining a good dream. I was about to get a blonde's number."

When isn't he going to get some blonde's number? At least he rolled off of my shoulder and over onto his other side.

"Fine. But if you roll back onto my side, I'm shoving your ass onto the floor."

I don't know if he heard me because the next thing I heard was him giggling. Perfect, just perfect.

~x~x~

Mornings aren't my prime time and they sure aren't Brett's either. We both staggered down the stairs to find out what was available for breakfast. I was hoping for coffee and something chocolate. I was probably going to have to settle for less, and then I smelled them. Homemade muffins. It was glorious, it was almost better than coffee.

Brett snatched the one and only chocolate muffin and a cup for coffee and sat at the table. I opted for oatmeal, plain – no sugar added. It tasted like library paste.

"Did you boys sleep well last night?" Larry asked.

"It's always tough in a strange bed," I said.

"I can sleep anywhere," Brett said.

Yes, and he has slept anywhere with almost anyone who would let him.

Brett got up to get himself some fruit and a croissant with jam and fresh butter. I glared at Brett before going back to my oatmeal. It was stickier and blander than I remembered.

I overheard Larry say to him, "What's his problem this morning. Did you two have a tiff?"

"Nah. He's been cranky since he's started to develop a muffin top of his own. I don't think he'll be happy until he's no longer squishy around the middle."

"He looks good to me," Larry said.

Great.

"Hey Hal, show this guy your paunch."

Die and die quickly, scum.

"No."

"I don't think you've got a paunch," Larry said a little too quickly.

"Please?" Brett asked in a whine.

I was tired and cranky. If showing off my paunch was going to make this end now, I was going to do it. I would do almost anything until the caffeine kicked in.

"Fine. I'll lift my shirt if that'll make you happy," I said to Brett. Last night I'd made sure to keep a shirt on so he couldn't see how flabby I've gotten.

I stood from my seat and put my napkin down. Since I'd been more interested in the coffee than conversation or anything else in the room, I hadn't noticed the dining room had four other people, all male, in attendance. I unceremoniously pulled my shirt out of my waistband and quickly lifted it to the middle of my chest. As fast as I raised it, I lowered and re-tucked it.

"I don't see what you're complaining about," Larry breathed. "He looks perfect."

"Nah. He looked better last year. Last year he had one of these," Brett said lifting his shirt and exposing his eight pack.

Show off.

Larry dropped his coffee cup and there was the sound of a dish and cutlery hitting the floor.

"See? He looks all _squishy_."

Thanks ever so much, Brett. I've made myself a fool and you've gotten to show off yet again.

"Just how long have you been partners?" Larry asked.

"We've been together a little more than a year," Brett said.

"You know, people sometimes work out really hard until they meet the right partner," Larry told him. "Maybe he's let himself go because he's comfortable with you."

Uh, no. I've 'let myself go' because a chocolate milkshake has prevented me from throttling Brett on more than one stakeout. Because an extra large order of fries keeps my mouth moving longer so I didn't say something and insult the man. Because ice cream doesn't annoy me or talk back when I've had a bad day. I have let myself 'go' because it beats the H out of wearing an orange jump suit that I know the county or state would provide after I inflict bodily harm on Brett.

I went back to the serving dishes and looked at the muffins. They had pumpkin muffins; I needed comfort food and right now that was as comfortable as I was going to get without leaving the building.

"You can't eat that," Brett said taking the muffin from my plate. "You should have one of these."

He placed a dry looking bran muffin on my plate. Bran? Thanks so much for your thoughtfulness, Brett.

"I have a chocolate muffin, if you want it," said a short, round man at the next table. "It's the least I can do. You've made my day."

"Thanks," I said as I accepted his muffin.

"I'm Mike, and I think you're amazing."

Oh God. Where exactly are we in Boston and how long are we supposed to be here?

To be continued…

* * *

a/n: Brett really isn't intentionally dim, I swear. And as to Hal and the 'muffin top' the rest of us would still consider him to be in pretty decent shape.

thanks for reading and reviewing....


	6. Chapter 6

As usual, I disclaim everything and everyone ... though I've had a god time with some of it ...

A/N - the theme at this point is: what's the worst thing that could happen ... we will be revisiting this theme often.

**The Ultimate Debate – Boston 03  
By Alfonsina**

There are days and then there are days, you know? This had been one of those days. Nothing had gone right from the time that I discovered that Brett was using my toothbrush. I usually have a spare in my locker at work and at home, but not in the shaving kit I use when I travel.

"Dude, based on my dragon's breath, I'm beginning to wish I'd packed my toothbrush," he'd said after he spit into the sink and offered me my own toothbrush.

"No thanks. I'll just gargle this morning. We'll hit a drugstore before we go to the office." No way was I ever going to use that toothbrush again. That's just disgusting. "Did you forget any other toiletries?"

"Let me think," he said opening his bag. "Pretty much everything. Do you think you can lend me your razor and some shaving cream? How about some deodorant?"

Lovely. I'm sharing a room at a bed and breakfast with Brett and it looks to everyone in the place like we are _partners_ but not in a business sense. As much as I don't like them to have that idea, I think it is preventing some of them from coming on to me, at least I hope it is.

"Don't you plan?"

"I never remember everything. At least I have enough uniforms for a week."

"How many pairs of underwear and socks did you pack?"

"Enough for two days."

"You knew we'd be here a minimum of four days."

"Yeah, but I figured I could rinse them in the sink and dry them over the tub at night. It's what I do when I'm camping."

"Yeah, but we don't know how long it'll take for stuff to dry here. And you usually camp in the summer, nature helps out providing breezes and sunlight."

"I know you brought extras, why don't I just borrow from you?"

I glared and mentally tried to drill a hole into his head. It didn't work, I try almost daily and it never works. One day, technology will be developed and I will be able to shoot lasers from my eyes and if I don't kill him, maybe I can perform a lobotomy on him.

I pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from my briefcase and began to write.

1. Chocolate  
2. Underwear  
3. Socks  
4. Chocolate  
5. Toothbrush  
6. Deodorant  
7. Chocolate

"What did you pack?" I asked.

"Condoms and lube."

"Sorry I asked; just use them somewhere else. Anything else you think you'll need?"

"Cookies and crackers. Maybe some chips?"

At least we could agree on something.

"Hey, I was just wondering. Did you collect or have any hobbies anything as a kid, Brett?"

"Just the usual. I collected spores, mold and bacteria."

Eww.

"Yeah, my dad was a research scientist and we'd grow stuff in his study so we could look at it under the microscope when he came home from work."

"Did you learn much?"

"Yeah, don't drink pond water unless you've filtered it and boiled it first.

~x~x~

We spent the day in the field doing what we do best, annoying each other. No one wanted to be paired with Brett, they said since we were going to be here such a short time we may as well just work together.

I heard a rumor that they thought they were playing 'Rangeman Roulette' if they took on new or different partners. Stupid. We all had similar backgrounds. Of course everyone had specialties and none of us were the same, but roulette? Come on, guys.

I still didn't get to meet George. The message from the control room was that George had laryngitis and the stomach flu; but would be working from an apartment. It seemed that George was as much part of this mini-epidemic as everyone else in Boston.

I sent a message to George about getting us accommodations nearer to the office. It seemed that George's search didn't produce anything that would be available for the next several days. If there was a convention in town, I didn't know about it. The only place we were going to get refuge was going to be the B&B.

Brett did call and talk to Larry about giving us two rooms. He couldn't get us into two rooms but offered to put us in his special suite; the future occupants weren't expecting a suite, just a room so there would be no problem. We did have to pay a higher fee, but for more space it would be well worth it.

After our shift was over, Hal and I went to Target and got him all the things he had on his list plus a new I-Pod and some DVDs he could watch on his computer. Since he forgot his credit card and had no cash, I paid.

We had dinner at a chain restaurant. Brett had grilled chicken and steamed veggies. I had the chocolate suicide. Chocolate suicide might get me through the rest of the night; chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, hot fudge sauce and chocolate ice cream.

"Man, you won't be fitting into your uniform if you keep eating like that," he said.

True. For now I wanted to dull my senses and alter my reality and the best way was to do it with chocolate. If I drank, I could get busted for driving under the influence, but I couldn't get busted for driving under the influence of chocolate.

~x~x~

When we arrived back 'home' for the night, Larry asked if we had any plans for the weekend. I didn't have a reason to go home and Brett wanted to sight see.

Brett said, "He wants to spend _quality time_ with Barbie."

Yeah, I did. I hadn't had quality alone time with Barbie in ages.

"You're OK with that?" Larry asked. "Is she his daughter or something?"

"No," I said. "Feel free to hang out here, I'm going to go up to shower and change. I'll catch you later."

I was almost at the stairs when I heard Brett say, "He spends a lot of time and money on Barbie."

"That's got to be tough on you."

"His money, his decision. It's been a long couple of days. I'll see you in the morning."

"Just remember that you are responsible for finding the joy in your own life; don't depend on anyone to provide it for you."

~x~x~

The new room, or shall I say suite, was much larger but still had just the one bed, queen size. The room had a hardwood floor, lace curtains, votive candle holders everywhere and the color scheme was pink and lilac. I think I liked the Austin Powers room better.

Any notions I had of sleeping in a recliner or sofa were put to rest, the chairs were all wing back and the sofa was a loveseat. I contemplated sleeping in the bathtub, but it didn't have one, it had an amazing shower instead. Sure, I could have slept on the floor of the shower, but it just isn't the same as sleeping in a tub.

The bathroom would have been ideal for any woman; there were mirrors everywhere and a double vanity. The counter was a gorgeous marble and the fixtures were all brushed silver. Everything matched perfectly. I'm just fine with it, or I was until I realized the toilet and bidet matched; I couldn't let my mind go there.

I was unloading my bag into the dresser when Brett came in.

"Why did you bring up Barbie?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to get some of the guys to quit looking at you _that way._"

They were looking at me? Me? You've got to be kidding.

"Besides," he said, "you will be spending a lot of time with her for the next round of qualifications. The last time you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off of the vehicle during the simulation, not destroy the whole truck. Plus I've seen the brochures and magazines you've been reading. I know you're going to be picking out new furniture for her."

He was right, I am picking out new furniture. That's both the good news and the bad news.

"Why do you call it Barbie anyway?" he asked.

"Easy. An AR-15 is a fabulous gun and everyone seems to like it."

"So?"

"So, people who like things make accessories for them. AR's have all sorts of goodies you can buy to customize them. Including but not limited to the slings, magazines, flashlights, scopes, grips, stocks and other furniture."

"I repeat, so?"

"So, the AR is like a little girl's Barbie; there is always one more thing to buy, one more way to play with it, one more way to make it your own."

"And if you own more than one?"

"Interchangeable toys, naturally." Ok, so I sounded smug when I said it, but I had three ARs and I could swap the accessories between my toys.

~x~x~

That night, I was destined to sleep on the floor. I pulled the cushions off the loveseat and the chairs and tried to get comfortable and couldn't. I kept slipping off one cushion or another just as I'd fall to sleep and wake when my body met hard floor. It is hard to believe I'd go for weeks at a time not noticing rocks under my body while I was in-country; with age comes softness, I guess.

At about midnight Brett said, "Princess, you may as well sleep on the bed with me. I don't bite."

"Princess?" Excuse me? I am just as macho as the other guys in the office, probably I have more testosterone than the average man on the street. Probably …

"Come on, Hal, you remember the Princess and the Pea don't you?"

Yeah, I did. Somehow I didn't think that my getting a bruise on my backside showing how delicate I was was the answer to my problems or questions. Around this place a bruise on my backside might mean something completely different.

"Get in," he said. "We may as well both be comfortable."

~x~x~

"Bro, you need to cut back on the chocolate or you won't have the beginnings of a muffin top, you'll have the entire muffin."

Right now I'd like to turn into a pound cake and pound him. Why is he suddenly the diet and exercise enforcer? We aren't home, so no one really knows. I have a uniform that is one size up from normal; I bought it in case of emergency and it looks like I'm going to have an emergency.

"Chocolate is my drug of choice, now leave me alone."

"But, you should at least be reading the labels on the packaged stuff you buy. You know that right?"

Sure, I know that. I am actively choosing right now not to read. Right now I am pretending that calories consumed while 'living with' Brett don't count. I am pretending that any calories I consume will turn into brain cells and transfer from my body to his mind. So my imagination is a little active right about now, but it has been two hours since my last hit and I feel like I'm going to die.

"How about these cookies?" he asked showing me a box of Healthy Choice Devil's Food cookies. "There're almost no sugars in these. See, sugars 4 grams. Sugar alcohols 21 grams. See? No problem."

"Do you even know what a sugar alcohol is?"

"No. Probably not all that important, because it is the sugars that  
are a big deal."

"Fine. I'll buy a box of these and a box of real cookies."

"Want me to hide the real ones?"

F G H I J K L

"No."

~x~x~

After we got home, I opened the box of cookies and let Brett try one. He ate almost the entire box in one sitting. They looked good and they smelled good but I didn't want to interrupt his pleasure. You see, I know what sugar alcohols are, they are the 'ol' sweetners like sorbitol and xylitol and those things always give me intestinal problems.

I was looking forward to seeing how those cookies impacted Brett. I was hoping there would be enough toilet paper in the bathroom, just in case.

~x~x~

I had about half an hour to myself before Brett came back from his walk around the block with Larry. Larry had been giving Brett special treatment since Brett's unexplained illness. Larry had delivered pots of tea and broth to the room for two days. It was fine by me, they played well together, but I didn't have a lot of time to myself.

If I spent too much time downstairs or at work, Larry and Darryl, Larry's partner, gave me dirty looks. It was as though I was ignoring my significant other. I really didn't have the heart to tell them the truth, and they were in the process of adopting Brett.

I was scribbling as fast as I could to get all of the pent up thoughts and emotions. I was out of chocolate and now my underwear was tight. It is one thing to have tight pants, you can usually undo the button and no one knows, but when the elastic digs in at the waist, there is no escape. I caught an old episode of Oprah the other night when I was with 'the guys' ... it was about the benefits of journaling.

Maybe, just maybe, this would satisfy my emotional needs. I'd be willing to do it until the elastic quit leaving such harsh marks on my skin.

I was just about to write something that would be highly inappropriate and not very PC when I heard him behind me.

"You know, Hal, you've gotten really quiet since you got yourself that notebook. You don't talk to anyone anymore, all you do is scribble and grunt. I've heard that writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. You aren't going skitzo on me are you? Cause I can take you to the doctor if that's what's going on."

After Brett's smart ass comment about me and going nuts, I decided to take a bath. Not a shower, a bath. You heard me right.

You see, Brett and I got a new room when he was stricken with tummy troubles. Between his excessive need of the bathroom, his pending adoption by Larry and Darryl which provided him favored son status, we were moved to yet a different room.

It was THE ROOM, the one that they had a waiting list for. Brett and his smile garnered the honeymoon suite. Yep. Now not only are we partners in the eyes of everyone here, but they are trying to help us to rekindle the love. If they only knew what they were doing.

The room was something out of Gone with the Wind. It was large, had hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, candles on every flat surface, bookcases, an amazing sound system, handmade rag rugs, a bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub big enough to accommodate two, and a canopy bed. The bed was one of those raised numbers with the big dust ruffle and gauzy stuff over the top of it. It was actually a very pretty bed, but once again it was a queen.

I asked Larry why the queen and he said, "I have a thing for queens of all kinds."

I should have known better than to have asked.

I decided not to ask about the special basket that was on the center of the bed. It was an official honeymoon welcome basket. It had three DVDs, one of them was a Boys Gone Wild. The next was Greatest Moments of Herbert Horsecock. The last DVD was the old Christopher Reeve movie, Somewhere in Time. The basket also held had a variety of scented soaps and bath oils, fancy shaving cream and new razors. I moved some of the raffia to discover two new vibrating cock rings, three boxes of extra large-extra sensitive condoms, and a lube that warmed to body temperature upon application.

At the foot of the bed was a blanket chest that was padded to use for some additional seating. Too bad it wasn't king in length, I might have started to sleep there. On the top of the chest was a silver tray with a champagne bucket with some kind of wine cooling over the ice and matching wine glasses that were etched "His" and "His". The note on the tray said, "We hope you love birds have a good time. Play safe. Smooches, Larry and Darryl."

I soaked for almost an hour. I was finally starting to come down from the mania of being without chocolate for three hours when I decided it was safe to leave.

Brett was sitting on the bed crying.

"What's the matter?" I asked. I might not like him all that well, but I don't like watching anyone in tears.

"It's the movie?" he sobbed. "It's so beautiful, so tragic. Do you think it could really happen?"

"What?"

God, I hope he's not watching the Boys Gone Wild thing and found someone with a piercing he envied.

"Do you think you can find a love across time like that?"

Oh boy.

~x~x~

It took Brett about two hours to quit crying over the ending of Somewhere In Time. He was crying over the story, the fact the Christopher Reeve was an undervalued actor, that he now loved that song; it was his new favorite music.

"Brett, you gonna be OK?" I asked.

"Sure. Do you have a hanky? My nose is getting raw from the Kleenex."

Perfect. I like hankies because they are soft and remind me of my dad. I usually have a couple floating around, but I didn't realize Brett was aware.

"I'll give it back after I do laundry," he sniffled.

"Fine," I said as I walked to the dresser and retrieved it for him.

"Anything else?"

"Can you see if Larry's got any low cal hot chocolate in the kitchen? He knows the kind I like."

Of course he does.

"Sure. I'll be back."

Great. Now Brett has ME doing his bidding. This keeps getting worse and worse for me, doesn't it?

I came back with a tray for Brett that was made up by Darryl. In addition to one mug of low cal cocoa, there was a bowl of mini-marshmallows, a handful of regular marshmallows, a small dish of ice cream, and a can of whipped topping.

"God this is good," he said. "It's perfect. Thanks for bringing it up."

"No problem. Can we cut the lights soon, tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"You know, Hal, they're using Splenda in everything, not just hot chocolate. I've even seen brownie mixes made with Splenda."

He's telling me now? Splenda is no problem for my digestive track. Splenda might be able to help me cut down on the calories ...

"I guess you could say that Larry and Darryl think that love is a many Splenda'd thing," he said as he took another sip.

L M N O P Q R S T U ...

Oh, forget it. I'm just going to pretend this never happened.

to be continued.

* * *

A/N: I promise that Hal is going to survive this, he just doesn't want to sometimes.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... Alf


	7. Chapter 7

The disclaimers are all the same.

Anything that happens, unintentionally, to any of the MM in this story will not cause them lasting harm ... well, maybe one or two of them.

**The Ultimate Debate 07  
By Alf.**

When we'd been sentenced to perform our penance in Boston, Brett and I had been told the exile wasn't to exceed six days at the very most. Tank lied. It was a big lie. He was no longer answering my emails or pages. He wouldn't pick up the phone to either Brett or me.

By day ten, I had long since give up trying to get different accommodations via George. George had other B&Bs that could work, but they were all in this neighborhood. Seems that Boston had a lot of conventions this time of year; odd, you'd think they'd all go to Florida to soak up the sun.

All things considered, Larry and Darryl's really wasn't that bad. Larry was holding back a chocolate muffin for me every morning, the coffee was decent and so was the bed. Unfortunately, Brett wasn't very good at staying on his own side and I found his head on my shoulder on more than one occasion. As we adjusted to the other's rhythms, it became easier just to go along to get along.

"Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up!" Brett was bouncing next to my chair and wasn't even trying to curb his enthusiasm.

"What's going on? Big plans for tonight?" I asked.

"It's a surprise! You are going to be so excited!"

This really didn't sound good. The more animated Brett got, the worse things usually were for me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I turned to look at him.

"We're going out with the boys tonight!"

The boys? The guys at the office were either on assignment or already gone for the night. Who was he talking about?

"Pardon?"

"Larry and Darryl have something special planned for us tonight with the rest of the boys. We need to change clothes, it starts in like half an hour."

Perfect, the _boys._ Well, I've been hanging out with them fairly successfully since this whole thing started, so what was one more night?

"Where are we going?"

"They wouldn't tell me, but they've called like six times to make sure we're both coming."

_We? Now he's making my plans for me? Fine. Whatever._

"What's the dress code?"

I pretty much just had work uniforms, a couple pairs of jeans and one nice sweater.

"It's dressy casual. I mean, your sweater will work, but you definitely need to shave and do the aftershave thing."

We don't have to dress to impress, but evidently we need to smell to impress? This is just so wrong.

"If I would have known earlier, I would have sent you out for a manicure."

_A what? Excuse me?_

"Are we meeting them somewhere or are we all leaving from the house?" I asked. I can't believe I'm thinking of it as the house and as a home.

"They sent over the address. We need to get going! I went back during lunch and picked out your outfit for the night, complete with clean underwear."

Now this is just beyond weird. Brett is picking out my clothes, and underwear, is excited to be going out with the boys for the night and won't say what we're doing.

I was about to make a smart comment when the phone at my desk rang.

"Day."

"Visitor for you down in the lobby," said the voice.

It had better be Tank with a check for hazardous duty and an increase in our per diem.

"Be right down."

I shut down for the night and noticed the grin on Brett's face. It was the face of a kid about to get his first bike from Santa Claus; it was so radiant it almost glowed.

"Change first, change first, change first." A garment bag and my shaving kit were shoved into my arms.

Fine. I'll change and keep Tank waiting. I'd suffered enough in the past few days, he could wait a couple of minutes.

~x~x~

I decided that Tank could wait more than five minutes, I took a quick shower. After all, it is easier to shave if the beard has been warmed in the shower.

"I'm gonna call and tell them to wait fifteen more minutes for us," Brett called. "But we need to get a move on, come on."

Whining, not the best sound for Brett.

When I emerged from the locker room, I was clean, smelled good and had eliminated all signs of five o'clock shadow. I hope it was worth it because I was starving.

While I was in the shower, Brett had changed into a pair form fitting jeans, a light blue button down, and a sports jacket.

"Let's go," I said heading for the elevator.

When the doors opened at the lobby level, it wasn't Tank hanging out by the reception desk, it was Lester.

"Les, man, what are you doing here?" I asked.

Lester and I had been partners the first three years I'd been at Rangeman. He'd tried to mentor me in the ways of women, it didn't work. I did get to watch him work his magic and I can safely say that he has seldom, if ever, heard the word 'no'.

"Here for a couple of days. Tank wanted me to check in on you and Ella sent some provisions."

I hope it is brownies, fudge or divinity.

"Where are you staying?" I asked.

He looked at Brett and then at me and said, "You. Staying with you, buddy. What are we doing tonight?"

M N O P if I know. I really had no clue other than it was important to Larry, Darryl and Brett.

I shrugged and said, "No idea, bro. Some kind of a surprise, I think. I guess we'll all find out together."

We headed to the SUV Brett and I had been using and loaded Lester's duffle and assorted other paraphernalia into the back.

I followed the directions Brett had been given and we pulled into a pub of some kind. It didn't look like a typical sports bar, but it wasn't a dance hall either.

We got out of the car and were met by Larry at the front door.

"About time," he said to Brett. "You need to train him better. We've all been waiting for you."

Great.

"And who is this long, tall, drink of water?" he asked giving Lester a triple take.

"This is Lester Santos. Les, this is Larry Jones. He runs the bed and breakfast we've been staying at."

"You all friends?" Larry asked.

"Lester and I used to be partners," I said. In for a penny.

"I've been his partner before, too. He just likes variety," Brett said.

Larry looked at the three of us, "Well you all seem friendly about it."

"No reason not to be," Brett said.

"Let's get inside, this is going to be fun!"

We followed Larry down a hall into a large room full of booths. There were a dozen or so man there of all ages, sizes and shapes and only one woman. The woman was quite a looker, not overly tall with an athletic build. Her brown hair was shoulder length. No telling what color her eyes were because I got stuck looking at her cleavage. Everything was exactly where it needed to be and in perfect proportion. Wonder if she's single?

Larry went over to her and said, "Gina, the stragglers are here and they picked up a stray."

She nodded, smiled and handed us each numbers.

_This was game night? Why wasn't there food?_

"Everyone, we begin in ten minutes. If you want something from the bar, get it now. We won't break again for about an hour and a half," she announced to the room.

I went to the bar and got a couple of beers for Lester and Brett. Since I was the designated driver, I had Perrier.

The woman, Gina, blew a whistle and said, "Gentlemen, welcome to speed dating. You will have a chance to meet everyone in the room tonight. You will have eight minutes with each date, I will blow the whistle and then you move to the next date. We'll have a break at the halfway point."

_Speed dating? What the fuck? Yes, I used the 'f' word, but this was one time when it was worth it._

Lester's jaw dropped and almost lost his beer. "Where are the women?"

"Just play along, Les. It's one night. It won't be that bad," I said. I didn't know if it was going to be that bad or not, but if I said it out loud, maybe it would all be OK.

Larry came up to me and whispered, "Darryl and I do this every few months to spice up our relationship. We pretend we don't know each other and see where it takes us. I know you two haven't been together all that long, but Darryl and I thought you needed some help in the romance department."

_Please, if there's a God in heaven, don't let Lester hear that. Please?_

Lester, who has been known for his superior hearing, came behind me and said, "Something special about you and Brett I need to know?"

"Can we talk about it after this is over?"

"My man, I want all of the details when tonight is over."

~x~x~

I decided not to think about this as dating, I decided this was just talking. I know who I am and what I want from life; sort of.

As the luck of the draw would have it, my first date was with Brett.

"I'm sorry I fucked up your life, Hal," he said looking down.

"It's not over yet. It's OK. You didn't know and it's just one night."

"Yeah, but they think we're a couple."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that they've thought we were a couple almost from the beginning.

We talked about movies that were guilty pleasures.

"I always liked The King and I," Brett said. "Yul Brennar was the man."

"I always liked musicals, but my favorite was South Pacific. When I was a kid, I lived in hope that the shower door would open and I could watch the girls as they sang 'Wash That Man Out of My Hair'." I can't believe I just admitted it to Brett.

"Dude, I was in the chorus for that back in high school."

My next date was Fred. Fred was a bear of a man; I mean to say that he really looked like a bear. He looked to be in his early 40s, was maybe 5'11, had a barrel chest, and every part of him was fury except for the top of his head. Hair was even trying to escape the confines of his shirt, guess he's into the natural look.

"Fred."

"Hal."

"So, do you have any special interests?" he asked.

"I love fishing."

We discussed fishing holes and bait. Then we lied about our best catches.

"So are you from around here?" he asked.

"Nah, just here for work. I don't know how much longer."

"Too bad."

My next date was a man named Tim. Tim was incredibly slender, so much so that if he turned sideways I thought he might just disappear.

"So, if you could spend any amount of money on a hobby what would it be?" I asked.

"Cool idea. Let's see, I have a thing for old muscle cars. Probably I'd finally fix up my old Chevelle. Right now there's more rust on the floorboards than floor."

We talked about the pros and cons of various 60s and 70s vintage cars, pre-catalytic converter when cars could still accelerate and gas prices didn't matter.

"You working on anything now?" he asked.

"Yeah, a 68 Nova. I redid the brakes a couple of weeks ago."

"Is it drivable?"

"Not yet, I've got some serious transmission work to do on it."

"Want some help?" he asked with a hair too much enthusiasm.

"The car's in Trenton."

He looked crestfallen.

~x~x~

In under two hours, I'd met everyone in the room except for Gina. It was really sort of nice and would have been nicer if this wasn't considered a dating adventure.

Both Lester and Brett were invading Gina's space and she was looking more than a little miffed about it.

"Guys, give her some room," I said. "She's got to do whatever she's got to do to finish this up."

Gina smiled at me and shooed the guys away with her hands.

"So, you gonna tell me what's up?" Lester asked.

"We've been here about ten days and there was no room at Rangeman and none of the local hotels had room," I said.

"Right."

"Did you try to book a room?" Brett asked.

"Nah. Tank told me you guys had enough room and you'd put me up."

Fabulous. Tank was going to be forever removed from my Christmas card list.

"Well, the place we're staying isn't exactly typical," I started to say. "And …"

Before I could finish the thought and break things gently to Lester, Gina brought the group to attention again.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to meet with each of you one on one to present to you your matches. I hope you all find love, if not tonight soon. Thanks for playing!"

Brett and Lester stuck to each other like glue. They were looking at the crowd over the rims of their glasses. I'm not sure if they were trying to guess who would have more matches or who they could outrun.

Brett was summoned first. He had palmed a piece of paper and wouldn't say anything.

Lester was summoned several minutes later. He too palmed his paper and was mute.

I was the last one to be summoned. While I was waiting, I made small talk with various men. No point in not being sociable, you know?

"Did you have a good time?" Darryl asked. He had wanted to be an undersea explorer as a child but discovered he was afraid of fish. It killed his early career prospects.

"It was interesting," I said in an attempt to be noncommittal. "Lots of nice people. Thanks for inviting us."

When I finally got face time with Gina, she said, "Hal, I'd like to congratulate you. More people wanted to get to know you better than anyone else in the group."

OK.

She handed me a slip of paper which had the name and number of everyone in the room except for Brett and Lester.

I put it in my pocked not quite sure how I felt about it. On the one hand, it was nice to be liked and accepted by so many. On the other hand, I just don't swing that way.

to be continued ...

* * *

a/n: see, it wasn't that bad ... and Hal has no visible scaring.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... Alf


	8. Chapter 8

The standard disclaimers all apply ... and Hal will actually come out the other side just fine, I promise.

**The Ultimate Debate 08  
by ****Alfonsina**

After I got my paper from Gina, I stuffed it into my pocked with mixed emotions. I was never this popular in high school and I don't do that well with women. This just isn't fair, you know?

Lester and Brett took up residency at a corner booth while I was talking to Gina. I wandered to the bar to see if they had a menu of any kind for snacks. My blood sugar was falling and I really needed something, anything, to eat. I ordered a couple big baskets of chicken fingers, fries, and some deep fried veggies. What? I normally have a salad at night, just because they have breading and oil doesn't mean they are no longer veggies, does it?

"I got us some food," I said when I made it to the table.

"Man, did you forget the beer?" Lester asked.

Actually, I didn't forget the beer. I just always wind up paying for everything all the time with Brett, I figured Lester could pony up a little while he was here.

"Bar's that way, man," I said indicating that he could buy drinks for all of us.

Lester race-walked back to the table with a pitcher of beer and the a stack of paper cups. He had a tall, slender, elegant man on his heels. He looked like he had been a male model back in the day. He dripped of class and money, he was way out of Lester's league. You know what I mean.

"Help me," he hissed at me.

"Help you how?"

"This guy won't leave me alone," he continued in a lowish and unhappy voice.

Lester deposited the pitcher, now missing several ounces of amber fluid, and cups on the table. He turned his head and snapped, "Shove over Hal. And no. I don't want to dance."

I hadn't really noticed that the lights had dimmed and Michael Buble's Everything was playing in the background. I love that song, it makes me warm and fuzzy. Someday, I'll meet a girl and she'll be my Everything.

"Baby, you don't know what you're missing," he said.

"I said no. I don't like to dance, Kevin," Lester said.

Kevin, that's right. He was the model train guy. He bought a place in the country just for the barn so he could have a big enough set up for all of his trains. He'd offered me a chance to come play with them whenever I wanted. I hadn't thought about model trains in forever, I loved them when I was like eight. Wonder if I'd still enjoy them?

"That's not true, you and I go dancing all the time at home," Brett said.

I smiled, this was perfect. The karma gods were paying a little visit to Lester in the form of Brett. It was bliss to be on the right side of the conversation for a change.

"But I'll let you lead," Kevin said. "Or if you let me lead, I'll dip you if you want."

No way was Lester going to let anyone lead, ever. He liked to be in charge and he was losing his cool. This was just too much fun to watch.

"No."

"But, baby, you told me that you liked to experiment with everything. What harm's gonna come if you give me just one, little slow dance?"

Lester gave me the 'help me' look.

"I heard you, that's exactly what you said," Brett told us.

How much better was my evening going to get? This was perfect. I owed a debt of thanks to Brett. I don't think I've really smiled in weeks and now my cheeks hurt. If Lester stays with us for long I'm going to need to buy some Vaseline for my teeth like the beauty pageant contestants so I can keep the smile going all night if I have to.

Kevin looked at me, like I was in charge or something, and asked, "Can I join you?"

"Sure, no problem. We've got some food coming, you hungry?" I asked. I could afford to be the good host. The bar tab had been settled, no one was too forward on my 'dates', I'd apparently won the popularity contest, and no one was hitting on me. I slid further into the booth and now Lester was sandwiched between me and Kevin, he had no escape. I think I love Boston right now.

"Thanks," he said.

Lester still had a few manners and made a little room for him to join us.

~x~x~

"So," Kevin said stretching his arm over the back of the booth thereby trapping Lester. "How long are you going to be in town?"

"Only a couple of days," Lester said.

"What brought you to our fair city?" he asked.

"Just work."

"Do you come here often? For work I mean, because, believe me I'd remember if I'd ever met you before."

"No. I tend to stay close to home."

"But you go to Mexico every spring," Brett said. "We had a great time when we went two years ago."

Kevin looked at Brett, "Really?"

"Yeah. Because we were partners, it was easier to plan vacations that way. You know, less hassle at work."

"But you aren't partners now?"

"Nah. I'm partners with Hal now."

Ok. The karma fairy was back in my life again and she was doing me proud.

"And how long have you two been partners?"

"Around a year," Brett said.

The baskets of tranquilizers were delivered and there was more than enough to share. So maybe no one else sees chicken fingers and ranch dressing as having a calming effect, I paid for it so I am entitled to believe in the soothing power of the deep fat fryer. I was about to dig in when Larry came over.

"Can I ask you something, Hal?" Larry asked.

"Sure."

"In private."

"No problem."

Brett scooted over so I could get out of the booth. I followed Larry to a quiet corner.

"I'm sorry about my cousin," he said. "I didn't know that Kevin would come on so strongly to your friend."

"Not a problem, Lester's a big boy."

"I just don't want things to be uncomfortable for him at the house. Your friend, not Kevin. Kevin is family and I don't care if I make him miserable."

Oh really? He's staying at the house with all of us? Wonderful.

"I didn't even know Lester was coming. Do you have a spare room you can put him in?"

"Kevin got the last room. They could share, if they both want that."

No way was Lester going to want that, but I was going to make it an offer he didn't think he could refuse.

"Which room?"

"Austin Powers."

That would be just too perfect. I really wanted to do it to Lester, metaphorically speaking, but the fallout could last for years if I didn't do this right.

"Can he stay with us for a couple of nights?"

I couldn't believe I was volunteering, but there it was. Three straight men all sleeping one bedroom with one bed.

"Yeah. I even have an air mattress I can lend you while he's here."

Why didn't I think about that eight days ago? I could have gotten one and had my own sleeping space.

"Thanks."

I walked back to the table and sat next to Brett.

"I saved you some food," he said. "But you really need to hit the gym harder. This stuff is really bad for your heart."

Thanks for the reminder. It wasn't chocolate and it wasn't something I did all of the time.

Lester started to laugh.

"What's so funny Santos?"

"Nothing. I just like watching partners look out for each other."

The hand that had been on Lester's shoulder was now on his neck playing with the hair at his collar. Lester tried to flick it away, it didn't leave.

"I hate not knowing anyone in a strange city. I'd hate for you to be lonely tonight."

Lester tried to shoot him a discouraging look; it didn't work.

"I'm not going to be lonely, I'm with them."

"But they are old marrieds, boring," Kevin said in a husky voice. "And baby, you look like you could never be boring."

I resent that, I may be boring but I am definitely not married. I was going to open my mouth to speak when Brett handed me a napkin to indicate I had crumbs around my mouth.

~x~x~

Larry and Darryl stopped by the table on their way out.

"Kevin, you ready to go?" Darryl asked. "Or are you going home with them?"

Kevin's face lit up like a kid who'd been told he could have any toy in the store.

"Really?" he gushed. "You're staying with them?"

I nodded.

"And you?" he asked Lester.

"I'm with them," he said indicating Brett and me. "I go where they go, at least for a couple of days."

"I can take you back later, we could explore some of the city's wildlife tonight."

"Got to be at work at," Lester looked at me, "what time?" He mouthed the words 'please say early, please?' my direction.

"Seven a.m. shift. Since Brett's been watching my weight, I was going to go in even earlier to work out."

Lester mouthed 'thank you'.

"Can I come and watch?" Kevin asked.

Lester shook his head violently, no.

"No. We work and work out in a secure building," Brett said. "If you belong to a local gym, maybe we can get guest passes there and all go together."

Lester turned three shades of pale and looked like he was about to cry.

~x~x~

I woke up in the middle of the night feeling warmer than usual. Brett doesn't put off that much body heat, and I've adjusted to what he does generate. That was both the good news and the bad news.

I felt around the bed to see just how many blankets were on it. Instead I discovered the source of the problem, it was Lester. Somehow a bed that normally slept one comfortably, was passable for two, now accommodated three. Exactly when he had joined us was uncertain.

There was no easy way to extricate myself from the tangle in the bed, so I decided that shoving was a good choice. One gentle shove on Lester did nothing except produce, "Baby, don't be that way. We can do it again in a few minutes."

"Lester."

"It's too early, baby, really. I'll make it up to you soon, promise."

"Lester, man, what are you doing here?"

I shoved him again, but he caught my hand and tried to lead it to his groin. I resisted.

"Honey, you really need to start to get a manicure, you've got a lot of calluses for a woman. You're strong, too. I like strong women."

"Lester, let go. It's Hal."

Lester's eyes flew open and he fell off the bed.

"What the f-" he started.

"What were you doing in my bed?" I asked.

"Our bed, Hal. We share, so it's ours. Go back to sleep, princess," Brett said.

"There was a hole in the air mattress. It leaked all its air at about two thirty, and you two were snuggled in together pretty good. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Think again," I said.

"But I get cold easily," Lester said as he crawled back into the bed.

"Fine. I'll take the floor."

I pulled the pillow out from under Lester's head and took the blanket from him, too.

"If you want to get warm, I'd recommend you cuddle with Brett."

I moved some cushions around on the floor and dozed fitfully for the next couple of hours.

~x~x~

The over breakfast, Lester said, "You two really are the old married couple aren't you? And grumpy when you don't sleep together."

"I'm not now and never have been a morning person, Les. What are you going on about, Lester?" I asked.

"It's precious, you two haven't lived together two full weeks and you already have the whole domestic scene down pat. Including the snuggling and the pet names. Got to love Princess."

Brett chose this moment to wake up, "It's a reference to the Princess and the Pea. He did you a favor getting on the floor last night. You should have stayed on the floor. You weren't invited to join us in bed. As to having a routine, everything is easier if you have a routine. We've found what works for us and you should respect that."

"Please Brett, you were ironing his uniform while he was in the shower."

Brett has a thing for sharp, crisp pleats; he irons like a dream. Probably a skill he developed when working for a dry cleaners when he was in high school.

"So?" Brett asked.

"So? He read out loud to you last night."

Yeah, actually I did. Turned out that we both like Tony Hillerman books and I brought the Blessing Way with me. We both wanted to read it, so instead of taking turns with the book, I'd been reading a chapter per night to him before we cut the lights. I'd let Brett take a chapter one night, but he kept inversing words when he was tired; easier when I read it.

"Your point?" Brett asked sounding a little snippy.

"Just a little chummy for my tastes," Lester said with a smile. "And playing music all night so you can sleep? And it's the soundtrack to Somewhere in Time?"

"It drowns out his snoring," Brett said. "You try sleeping with him and see if you don't want something to block the noise."

Gee, Brett, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.

"Lester, you only have another couple of nights before you get to go home. The text I got this morning from Tank said we needed to plan at least two more weeks here."

"I can't wait until the guys back home hear about all of this," Lester said.

"I'll call Tank and arrange for a weekend off and we'll just see how that goes over. I'll see if he can't arrange for you to take over."

"Gonna tattle tell on me, boy?" Lester asked.

"Hey, we don't get but one day off a week while we are here. And from what I understand from George's last text, this place has worked a special rate for us. You'll be bunking here for as long as you are working from the Boston office."

"Crap."

"I'll call him now about the transfer," I said patting my pocket down for my phone. I couldn't find it, so Brett handed me his.

Lester pulled the phone out of my hand and said, "NO, I can't get transferred here. It just won't work with my image."

"Why not Les? They haven't had a distraction yet and there've been no bad takedowns. They figure the out of towners are best served doing monitor duty."

Monitor duty cramped Lester's style, he preferred being out and about.

Just then Kevin made it down the stairs and joined us at the table.

"Morning guys," he said. "Baby, how you doing this morning? I heard you had a rough night."

Lester said, "Exactly how did you hear that?"

"I heard the commotion and angry voices in the middle of the night. I'm more than willing to keep you warm. You wouldn't regret it."

So maybe there was an upside to this morning, I smiled and thought about how much fun this conversation could be later.

"Nah, I'll sleep with Brett and Hal can sleep on the floor."

"Excuse me? No. You are the odd man out, Lester," I said. "I'll lend you some extra sweats if you want them and spare socks. But you aren't getting back into bed with me."

Lester began doing an impression of a fish. I've never stood up to Lester, not really. He was used to using his charm to get what he wants.

"Or you could sleep next to me, I'll keep you warm," Kevin said playing with Lester's collar.

"I have to go home soon," Lester said. "Don't I Hal?"

"I'll take whatever time with you I can get, baby, and you'll remember it for a long, long, long time," Kevin said.

Eww.

"You know, Lester, I was going to go home for the weekend. I'm sure you wouldn't mind covering my shifts," I said. "You can stay with Brett."

"I don't want to sleep with him anymore, he hogs all the blankets and his feet are like icicles," Brett said. "Plus he talks in his sleep."

I never really thought of Brett as a fairy, but he must be the karma fairy. I love the karma fairy, you know?

"I lived in Canada, I like cold things and I like making them hot," Kevin said before he took a sip of his coffee.

* * *

A/N: Lester won't have too many scars and Hal needed a little bit of a break.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Alf


	9. Chapter 9

The standard disclaimers apply, nothing ventured and nothing gained. Really (darn the luck).

**The Ultimate Debate 09  
by Alfonsina**

Lester hid at the Rangeman office and didn't want to go home after his double shift was over. He kept saying things like he'd sleep in the control room or in the garage. He didn't want to spend any more time with me or Brett; he called us freaks. If he'd called us anything stronger than that I would have taken serious offense.

Kevin was looking for Lester from the moment I hit the door after I got back from the sporting goods store.

"When's he coming back? I'll pick him up if he needs a ride, please?" Kevin begged.

I was tired and cranky, I needed some time alone. Why not?

"Tell you what, Kevin. If he doesn't call before I'm ready to turn in for the night, I'll ask you to get him."

You'd have thought that I gave Kevin a birthday present he smiled so big. Then again, maybe I did.

~x~x~

It was almost eleven when Lester finally called. He sounded exhausted and frazzled.

"Didn't pick anyone up at the bar tonight?"

"Nah, no one wanted to go with me. Guess they don't want to lose their monopoly on the local talent," he said.

"Where are you now, Lester?"

"The lobby of the office. You can get me a ride, right?"

"Sure, no problem. Your ride will be there in twenty minutes or so. Be outside the building though. There's been sleet tonight and I don't want any car trouble."

"Sure, man, I'll be outside. Thanks."

I hung up the phone and went to Kevin's room.

"You really wanted to give Lester a ride tonight? I'm beat."

"Yeah, I'd love to. Give me twenty minutes to clean up."

"Can't do it. I already told him someone would be there for him in twenty."

"But I smell awful and I don't have an outfit picked out."

"I'll ask Brett to do it."

While we were talking, Kevin was going through his closet and pulled out a new outfit and a bottle of cologne.

"Not even five minutes for a shower?"

"You really are trying too hard, it's just Lester."

"Ok, I can change now, really fast and I'll gargle. I'll put on the cologne in the car."

"Take my vehicle," I said as I handed him my keys.

~x~x~

Brett was getting out of the shower when I got back to the room.

"Hey, are we waiting up all night for Lester? I don't want to blow up his bed until he's here. I don't want to short change my workout."

I'd bought a larger blow up mattress at the sporting goods store on the way home. It was a double, so Lester could at least roll onto his side if he needed the room.

"Kevin is going to get him. You've probably got at least forty or forty-five minutes before he gets back."

"Cool."

"Hey, Brett, I know I've never said anything before," I started to say.

"What?"

"Can you at least wear your clothes while you do your stretching as long as Lester's here? He's been really uncomfortable and I don't want to make it worse for him."

"But," Brett said.

"Please? I'll read you two chapters tonight and I'll let you control the electric blanket."

"Done."

~x~x~

To say that Lester was unhappy would be an understatement. He was about ready to kill me by the time he got back to the room.

"What did you do, Hal? More importantly, why did you do it?"

The thing about Lester is that he's kind of a Tom Sawyer type, you know, "Look at how much fun I'm having all by myself painting this fence. Too bad you don't want to have any fun." I'd been his partner the better part of three years and painted my fair share of fence posts while he sat in the shade drinking lemonade. This situation was working out very nicely for me. Very nicely indeed.

"What's the matter, Les?" Brett asked as he tucked his legs into a very neat lotus position.

"Kevin has been hitting on me."

_You just now noticed? Jeesh you're slow on the uptake there, Lester._

"So. Are you prejudiced or something? Maybe he just flirts with everyone."

"Do you think he offers to show everyone his vasectomy scar?"

Probably not. Wonder how big those scars are? I've thought about doing it after I've been married and had three or so kids, but since there's no woman in the offing, there's no real reason to think about it, not really.

"Did you look?" Brett asked.

"What kind of a guy do you think I am?" Lester asked.

I could hear the hysteria level in Lester's voice was raising, wonder how long it will take him to have a melt down? Wonder how many firetrucks it will take to hose him down in case he spontaneously combusts?

"I always thought that you were pretty open minded, actually. You always stress being open minded to your own dates, so I thought you were open minded, too."

Nicely played, Brett. If I could have gotten away with doing a golf clap, I would have.

"Brett, you need to finish up so we can blow up Lester's bed," I said.

"I'm not sleeping on another air mattress," Lester said.

"The way I see it, you've got three choices. You can sleep on the floor, on the air mattress or in Kevin's room."

Lester looked like I just shot his dog. "No, I can't sleep there," he said in a hushed tone. "He might try something more than he tried in the car."

"Want to share?"

"No," Lester said with a pout.

"Ok, two choices, the floor or the air mattress."

"I want to sleep with Brett."

"Sure, I'll take the air mattress," I said.

"No. No way. I'm not sleeping with Lester. He was blowing in my ear this morning and making rude suggestions."

"Fine, we'll draw straws," I said. "But come on, guys, I'm tired and not in the mood for any more games."

"No. We already agreed that I get to control the electric blanket with you. I'm not taking a chance on Lester and I don't like sleeping that low to the ground," Brett said.

Lester heaved a sigh, looks like the sweet innocent determined sleeping order. Who would have thought?

~x~x~

According to my watch, it was 3:47 when Lester rejoined us in bed.

I didn't care why he was cuddled into me or how long he'd been there. He was snoring directly into my ear, leg draped over my hip, and his hand draped across my chest. It really bothered me when his fingers found and pinched my nipples.

"That's it. I've been nice and I've gone out of my way to accommodate you," I said quietly to my newest bed partner.

I took matters into my own hands, literally. I crawled out of the bed and picked up Lester. I carried him next door to Kevin's room. Kevin answered immediately upon hearing my knock.

"Kevin, were you serious about sharing your bed with Lester?" I asked as quietly as I could.

He didn't answer he just started nodding his head up and down.

"Where do you want him?" I asked.

The power of speech was still alluding Kevin, he just pointed to the bed; the round bed, the one that had the mirror above it.

"I warn you he snores, gets handsy and he drools," I said while I deposited Lester onto the bed.

"What time do I have to give him back?"

"Around 7:30, unless you need to get up earlier," I said.

"Nope. I'll be up long before 7:30."

"Can I ask for a favor?"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. How can I make your life better?"

"Can I get a picture of you two on the bed together, cuddling?"

"Only if I get a copy of the picture."

Perfect.

"Be right back."

I left to my room and got my camera phone and Brett's. I had no intention of telling Brett about the picture stored there, it was for backup. I think about four of the six shots turned out alright; one of them would have been suitable for framing.

When I checked the pictures later, I realized that not only did Lester have on no shirt, he no longer had on his pants, and he'd been commando.

~x~x~

Lester pounded on the door at 6:15, repeatedly.

"Open up, you mothers," he snarled at the door. "If you don't open up, I'll break your door down."

Brett staggered from the bed, opened the door, returned to bed and stuck his head under a pillow.

"Good morning to you, too, sunshine," I said. I was a little sleep deprived, but was feeling much better having gotten a little of my own back.

"That was a low blow last night," he said.

Yeah, it was. I'll admit it and take full ownership of it.

"You got back into bed with us again. You knew there would be consequences."

"You went above and beyond, man."

True.

"The last thing I remember was having a really intense dream about a brunette with short, spiky hair, a big girl, but she smelled like lavender. Next thing I know, I wake up SOMEWHERE else in a room I've never seen before."

I've got to stop using the body lotion Larry provided and go back to Vaseline Intensive, didn't realize I was smelling like lavender. I just hate it when my skin gets so dry in the middle of winter, you know?

"That's not atypical for you, dude," Brett mumbled. "I've known you to sleep in as many as six beds in one week."

"Yeah, but I've never slept with strange men before," Lester said.

"What do you call boot camp?"

"That's not the same and you know it. There's no way I'm going to be able to do PT today. I'm not changing clothes in front of anyone."

"Got cramps?" I asked. "Or are you just feeling bloated and fat?"

Funny, I no longer craved chocolate or fried foods. In the two days that Lester has been with us, all of the food as medication has ended. I've also felt an overwhelming need to work on my abs and lift weights.

"Hickeys," he said quietly.

"Speak up please," I said.

He didn't say another word, he lowered his pants.

"Can't keep it in your pants, Lester?" Brett said. "Typical male."

"It's not that. I had to fight to get my pants back. When I started to struggle, he wanted to play 'WWF' or something like that. That's beside the point. He left hickeys on my thighs and the lower part of my stomach before I was completely awake."

Kevin took that moment to knock on the door.

I left the bed and Lester dove into my side, lifting the sheet up to his chin.

"Lover, you forgot your boxers," Kevin said holding the fabric by the elastic waistband.

"I don't wear boxers," Lester said trying to hide from behind Brett.

"My bad, sorry baby."

"Hey, Kevin, I wanted you to know that tonight's Lester's last night with us. He's going to go back to Trenton tomorrow," I said.

"Oh, that's a shame."

"Anyway, I was thinking it might be nice if we got together tonight for some kind of a group activity," I said.

"Ooooh, I like how you think. How much lotion are we going to need, or will we need costumes?"

"Neither. I was thinking we could do something to use up some energy," I said.

"My questions still apply," he said with a wink.

"I was thinking either pool or bowling tonight. Just the four of us," I said.

"Pool, please?" Brett begged. "I love playing pool. I even brought my own stick."

"Any sport with balls, works just fine for me. Hard balls and a long stick, sounds perfect," Kevin said.

* * *

A/N: Lester's scars won't last too long ... besides, it was fun to have someone hit on the pick up artist.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing! alf


	10. Chapter 10

Standard disclaimers ... Lester has minimal damage ... Hal is still holding on

**The Ultimate Debate 10  
by Alfonsina.**

Things had been kind of quiet since Lester left; Brett even wanted to turn up the music to compensate for the lack of Lester's snoring. I told him if he wanted it that loud, I'd download music into his iPod and he could entertain himself with it. You've got to be considerate of the neighbors, right?

By the end of our second week, we were no longer seen as outsiders at the Rangeman Boston office. The schedule was changed up and now we were both partnered with others; it was a nice change.

My first surveillance shift I got partnered with Dustin. Dustin was the new kid; just out of the reserves, there was a little moisture left behind his ears. He was atypical for us: dark curly hair and quiet, young and married. I kept waiting for the barrage of questions and none came. There were no observations about how home improvement shows make everything seem so much easier than real life. There were no questions about how 'Aunt Jemima' got her name. There was no speculation on whether or not Hercule Poirot was gay or just a little too tidy.

There was no conversation, just observation – you know the way it is supposed to be. But if working with Dustin was textbook perfect, why did it feel strange?

~x~x~

I'd put in a fourteen hour day and had just taken my shower when Brett came bouncing back into the room.

"I had the best time tonight with George."

George? Other than the odd text here or there, I hadn't really heard much from George since we'd been here.

"Thought you were working."

"I got partnered with George today; Steve wanted to do monitors. Tomorrow night is a major takedown and I get to see George in action. Wanna come?"

Wanna come? Beats watching re-runs of Bones downstairs with the guys while trying to figure out who done it. I prefer Master Piece Theatre, but that's just me.

"Sure. I'm probably on the schedule anyway."

"George is so totally cool. Did you know that George can explain computers so that even an idiot can understand them?"

"No way."

"Way. Like I said, it was the best time."

~x~x~

The takedown was set for 11:00 the next night. It was an all hands on deck kind of a thing. James Standish was into sex slaves and his operation was now in three states.

I'd already put in a twelve hour day and Dustin and I were getting ready to rejoin the rest of the team at the office when Dustin got a call. His pregnant wife had gone into labor early; two weeks early.

We hadn't even made it all the way to the hospital that I got a phone call from Brett.

"Man, George is totally, like, magic."

"What? George was pulling rabbits from hats?"

"Nah, but that would be cool too, I love bunnies. I think my favorites are the really fluffy white ones, you know with the powder puff tails. I love the powder puff tails."

C D E F G H I Are we part of this take down or not?

"Do you still need me?" I asked, probably a little tersely.

"Oh yeah, that. Nah, do whatever you were going to do. You guys don't need to come, takedown is over. We got them all."

Good. Great. Whatever. I'm tired and just want to go to bed.

"Hey, do you want to join us at the karaoke bar?" he asked.

He was bouncing as he spoke, I could just hear it.

"I'll pass. I'm going to drop Dustin off and head back for the night."

"But it could be so much fun!"

Yes, it could be. The last time we had 'fun' together we'd been speed dating, EACH OTHER. I really didn't want to make any more appearances as a couple right now.

"I want to work out and then go to bed," I said yawning into the phone. What? There's nothing wrong with a little added emphasis.

"But, if you change your mind, join us, OK? We'll be at the George and Dragon."

"Sure. Thanks for the invite."

~x~x~

Brett got home around one o'clock in the morning; he was still bouncing.

"Wanna talk?" he asked pulling his shirt off over his head.

"Want to go back to sleep."

"I'm too wired to sleep."

"I left you some hot chocolate by the microwave and there's some milk if you want it."

I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head.

"You know, for a newbie, George has some major skills. Third degree black belt, qualified for the Olympic shooting team, but was too young to go, AND George speaks three languages."

George is perfect. Yay George. Go team.

Why is there no remote control to prevent me from hearing Brett drone on and on about the glories of working with George?

Brett wandered into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, stripped off his pants, and crawled into bed.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Oh God.

"I've heard of it, but I don't believe in it for myself," I said. "Why?"

"Cause I think I'm in love. George has this killer smile, fantastic body, amazing ass and smells good. Did you know George doesn't use anything but soap and still smells amazing?"

J K L M N O P Q R

"Brett, it's late. If you and George have a future together, I'm really glad for you, but I'm really tired."

~x~x~

Since my new partner was off doing 'daddy duty' for a couple of weeks, I got to do monitor duty; double shifts. I was given an hour between shifts to exercise and eat. At least I've started to lose some of the muffin top. Not that my abs are properly defined yet, but I no longer unbutton the top of my pants and hide it under the belt.

Brett continued to work with George. I was always a day late and a dollar short when it came to an actual introduction, but I felt like I knew George. Brett couldn't say enough about his _new_ partner.

What, or better who, was George? The ultimate boy scout, that's what. George got through with college in two and a half years instead of four, to cut costs. George was the eldest child of a nomadic family, so languages came easily. George had an on again off again relationship with someone named Chris. George loved herbal teas, cats, and action adventure movies.

I was really starting to hate George. George was young, smart, had fabulous abs and a tight ass. Right now I felt old, tired, had very mediocre abs, and my ass weighed 180 pounds and answered to the name Brett.

Yeah. I was in a peachy mood.

The bed still had three people in it, but now the third was George. The problem with having George bunking with us, other than the fact that George is perfect at everything all of the time, is that there is no way to get rid of a ghost. I almost wish that Lester was back.

~x~x~

"Pumpkin, what's the matter?" Larry asked a few days later over breakfast. "You look like you could use a shoulder to cry on. You can tell Auntie Larry and Uncle Darryl anything. You know that, right?"

"I'm fine, really," I said. I wasn't, not really. I wanted to go back to Trenton to my own apartment, to my stash of Nutter Butter Cookies, to my own life. I was borrowing this one and it was wearing thin.

"Tell you what, muffin," he said, "I'm making a roasted chicken and veggies tonight. I've even got homemade shortbread cookies planned for dessert. Why don't you come over tonight, _alone? _It'll just be us boys._"_

Great, more time with the boys. Well it would be better than hearing about the new partner.

~x~x~

Dinner with Larry and Darryl was actually a good time. The food was amazing, the conversation was light, they even played jazz from the 40s over the stereo. We took our coffee to the living room along with a pan of the promised shortbread cookies. They were just like the ones my nana made every Christmas, except there were no sprinkles or fun shapes.

"You know, Larry painted those coffee cups himself," Darryl told me.

That would explain the profile of two men kissing on each of the mugs.

"He did a lovely job," I said taking a long sip of the soothing liquid. "This is made with decaf right?"

"Sure and real cream. We only use the good stuff around here."

"Pumpkin," Larry said patting me on the knee, "you've been troubled lately."

"No. I've been tired lately."

"No. We've talked about it. Larry and I can tell there's been trouble in paradise with you and Brett," Darryl said.

I almost choked on my coffee at that comment. How can there be trouble in paradise when there is no paradise?

"We're fine. He has a new partner is all," I said slurping more coffee.

"New partner? You two haven't been together all that long!" Larry said.

"I never expected it to last as long as it did."

That was the truth. I expected to get hit with Brett once a month for a couple of days or when someone needed a really big favor. I never thought that we'd go more than a month together tops, much less a year.

"But you two are perfect together," Darryl said. "You look adorable when you are together."

Yep, that's us, Mutt and Jeff. At least I don't think of us as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.

"Sometimes it is best to leave it to the fates. I'm not going to worry about it. This is amazing coffee," I said. "It doesn't taste like the blend you serve in the mornings. What's in it?"

"Whiskey," Larry said. "Don't tell me that you don't drink."

"No. I drink but not very much. I'm a light weight."

Several years ago, I didn't give up drinking, I gave up the morning after. When I was in the service, we'd drink until either we had no money left or parts of our faces would go numb. It wasn't smart, but it's what you do when you are foolish and don't have to worry about driving yourself anywhere. After I woke up naked in a room of strangers and couldn't find my clothes, I decided moderation might be a good idea. Ultimately I stunk at moderation, so I gave up drinking completely, it was easier.

"I'll make you a plain coffee if you want it," Darryl said trying to take the cup from my hands.

"Naah, it'll be fine. Besides, I'm a cheap date, I'll probably only need one cup," I said.

I was wrong, I was already on my second cup and feeling a bit altered.

"Do you want the boy back?" Larry asked.

"No. He can have a new partner. I don't care what he does; I'm just tired of hearing about the 'oh so perfect George'."

"Inconsiderate," one of them said.

"Unfeeling bitch. He didn't know what a treasure he had in our little Hal and now he's throwing his new partner in our precious Hallie's face," the other said.

"We should ask him to leave," said the first.

"Boys, it's ok. Really. Brett and I are going back to Trenton in a couple of days and then we can pretend that this never happened."

"Never happened?" Darryl shrieked. "Never happened? He came here _with you_ to be with you, accepted our hospitality, and then dumped you?"

The hospitality came at a price, but they really had been very kind to both of us. Technically I wasn't dumped, I was reassigned.

I took another long sip of the coffee and nodded my head. "

"We think you are wonderful," Larry said. "You fixed the exhaust fan in our bathroom."

"And you fixed the door on the fridge," Darryl said.

"You shovel the driveway every time there's a snow drift," Larry said.

I have no idea what else may have been said because that was when I fell asleep.

~x~x~

At about five, I woke up to the feeling that someone was staring at me. It turns out that someone was Brett. His clothes were rumpled, his eyes were blood shot, and he smelled of sex.

"Why are you out here?" he asked using a stage whisper that I'm sure everyone could hear.

"Sleeping. Are you just now getting home?"

Why I was trying to engage him in conversation was completely beyond me; it didn't matter.

"Yeah, I had a great time."

Of course he'd been with George again, more about George.

"Upsy daisy, princess, we need to get you into a real bed," he said.

I groaned and tried to roll over, turns out, I rolled onto the floor. My legs were tangled in a granny square comforter and there was a stuffed puppy on the sofa.

"I'm fine. Leave me alone."

I would have said more, but my head was kind of fuzzy. Just how much whisky goes into Irish coffee anyway?

"Hussy, leave our boy alone," Larry said as he stormed into the room. "I heard the commotion from in the bedroom. Hal, do you want us to have him leave effective today?"

"It's all good," I said as I roused my body from the floor. "You can go back to bed. Thanks for dinner last night."

"Any time you want to talk, you can always come to your Auntie Larry. You know that, don't you?"

"Thanks. I do think I'll head to the room so I can clean up before I go to work."

~x~x~

"What was that all about?" Brett asked once the door was closed.

"They think you've dumped me for a younger man. Did you talk to Tank yesterday?"

"No. What's up with Tank?"

"We go home in two days."

"Cool. But I'm really going to miss George."

I'm not going to miss George at all.

"You can always transfer or do a long distance relationship," I said. "I'm going to clean up and head to the gym."

"Early for you isn't it?"

I'd actually been doubling my workouts lately, given up on chocolate, and was feeling like myself again. Plus, I was going to get to go home. Things were looking up.

~x~x~

The boys gave me a care package so I could tend my broken heart back home: a copy of A Bear's Life a Magazine for Men, the book 'He's Just Not That Into You', sachets for my drawers, and some essential oils to use for aromatherapy. It was sweet, totally unnecessary, but sweet.

I normally drive when I'm with Brett, he tends to tailgate and it makes me nervous. Problem is, when I drive, Brett talks and not always to me. Sometimes I think he and Harvey, that magical, mythical, white rabbit, are friends and that scares me just a little.

I didn't really want to engage in conversation; he drove and I played opossum. It would have been just fine except that he talked anyway. At least I wasn't expected to answer him.

~x~x~

When we got back to Haywood, Tank came by to see me. He looked worried and Tank seldom if ever looks worried.

"There's a problem with Lester," he said.

"OK." What does Lester have to do with me? I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks.

"I mean a serious problem with Lester."

I nodded.

"Will you talk to him?"

"Why should I talk to him?"

"He keeps saying things like, 'No, I don't want you to chalk my cue stick.' 'No, I don't want you to move my balls for me.' And 'No means no'. It just isn't like him."

"Again I ask, why do you want me to talk to him?"

"It happened after he came back from Boston. He's _different_ now. Did you do something to break him?"

Like I'm going to be able to fix Lester? Please.

"Where is he?"

"He's sitting in a cubicle by himself running searches. He keeps peering around the corner like he's waiting for someone to sneak up on him. If he doesn't snap out of it soon, I'm going to have to get him into treatment and look into getting therapy for him."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, he won't use the shower in the gym anymore. He won't even dress out in the locker room if someone is there. He's constantly looking over his shoulder."

I agreed and we headed to Lester's cube. He was there, but it was like nobody was home; his eyes were vacant and his skin was several shades paler. Even his teeth looked dull, and that's just not Lester. He kept rocking back and forth in his chair, clutching a box of Hostess Ding Dongs in his lap, humming 'You Are My Sunshine'.

"Lester, man, how you doing?" I asked trying to sound casual.

He leapt from his chair and threw his arms around me.

"You came alone, right? You are going to protect me, aren't you?" He asked as he tried to latch one of his legs around my waist. If I was a tree, he'd be climbing me by now.

"Sure, Lester, I'll keep you safe."

Tank and I exchanged glances. Tank's read, "You know what he's talking about?" I hope mine read, "No idea, but I'll help however I can."

"He didn't come with you, did he?" Lester whispered. "He isn't trying to find me, is he?"

"Who, Lester?"

Bigfoot? La Chupacabra? The invisible man? A pregnant woman? A woman with a stroller full of children? Someone's angry husband or boyfriend? A representative from the Health Department?

"Kevin. You didn't bring Kevin with you, did you?"

"No. I came back with Brett. No one else was in the truck."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise," I said. "Besides, I talked to Kevin, he's allergic to chocolate,"

Lester opened the box of chocolate covered delights and crammed one into his mouth.

"Safe now?" he garbled through the crumbs.

"You're safe now."

~x~x~

The first night home, alone was bliss. No one was banging on the door to use the shower just as I got the temperature adjusted the way I like it. I didn't have to worry about someone, anyone, using my toothbrush uninvited. I could read as much or as little as I wanted to, in silence.

I was in the middle of the bed, trying to get comfortable. I used to think this was one of the best beds I'd ever slept in, but now it felt a little too big. I moved pillows around and basically built myself a nest when I realized what was off; there was no music. Brett had insisted on keeping the 'Somewhere in Time' CD because he didn't think he could sleep without it. I had no idea I wouldn't be able to sleep without it either.

I tossed. I turned. I rolled. I found a classical music CD and played it; it was the wrong style. I even tried counting perps. Nothing helped.

At 1:15 there was a very quiet knocking on my door. I didn't look through the peep hole, there was only one person it could be, Brett.

Brett had a blanket over his shoulder, a pillow in one hand and that stupid CD in the other.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked.

What do you mean 'either'?

"No, I was sleeping like a baby."

OK, so next year I'm going to have to learn about self honesty.

"It's too quiet in there alone."

"Do you want to sleep on the sofa?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Brett got the stereo set up, used my shower, my towels and my toothbrush. Then he crashed on the sofa.

Once the opening stanza to somewhere in time had played itself through, I was out like a light. Evidently I had just become one of Pavlov's dogs. Great.

When the alarm went off, someone else beat me to it. Brett. Yep, back in bed with me. Why don't I have this effect on women? Why?

"Brett," I said, "you're going to have to start to sleep by yourself again or you need to get a girlfriend and stay with her."

"Yeah, I thought about that. Can't I just taper off?"

"It would be easier if you and Les hung out and found an easy mark. Or maybe you and Lester could sleep together."

"Yeah, but I've really thought about it. I mean, there's a lot of trust to sleeping with someone. I'd probably just leave after two or three hours of sex and I'd still wind up sleeping alone. And like I said before, Lester is handsy when you sleep with him."

Two or three hours? I hope he's counting foreplay and cuddling.

"No more details. And honestly, I really want to sleep alone unless it is with a woman," I said. "No offense."

"What? I usually smell good. I've got long hair. I'm thinner than you." Here we go with the weight comments again. "Those things alone should qualify me to sleep with you."

"Nice try, but no."

~x~x~

I had Lester give Brett the 'no means no' talk that he'd evidently tried to have with Kevin. Lester held Brett's hand the entire time. Not that I was listening in, but I was watching the body language. When Lester got to the _emotional_ part and the true significance of no, Brett had to hand him a tissue box. It would have been touching under other circumstances, but it was being done in my living room.

When the talk was over and Brett left, Lester asked if he could stay the night. He still wasn't feeling safe.

"Where are you planning to sleep, the sofa?" I asked. Sure, I had hope in my voice when I asked, but there's no life where there is no hope.

"I was hoping I could stay in the bed with you."

"How many nights do you think you'll need?"

"Three or four."

"You can't tell Brett about this or he'll horn in."

"Word of honor," he said.

The good news was that we were being honest with each other about this. The bad news? Easy, the bad news was that when Lester opened the door, Zip, Zero, Caesar and Binky were in the hallway and heard Lester say, "What time do we want to go to bed tonight?"

I often don't think before I open my mouth. After I learn self honesty, I'm going to learn self preservation by not talking unless it is absolutely necessary.

"I'm going to be in bed around 10:00. I turn the lights off at 11:00," I said.

"Cool. See you tonight, Hal."

Just how many more ways can I humiliate myself? Evidently the number is infinite, I keep finding new and better ways to do it. Jeesh.

* * *

A/N: Hal will survive - Lester's scars will heal.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing!!! Alf


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: same old song we've sung before. From the beginning and with gusto.  
_"I make no money, I profit in no way. I put JE's toys back in the box when I'm done and hope she doesn't get upset that I change all of the rules of the game, nightly."_

A/N: In many ways, the phrase 'What's the worst thing that could happen' will be revisited over and over and over again..

**The Ultimate Debate 11  
What's The Worst Thing That Could Happen?  
by Alfonsina**

I had been reducing time spent with each of my roommates in small increments. I had known that Brett would continue to sleep with me until he found a full time playmate. I'd taken to leaving singles magazines in the bathroom, I doubt he took the hint.

Tank was aware of what was going on, so he moved Brett's apartment next to mine; Lester was already on the other side. It reduced their travel time at night, and it was less obvious on monitors where they were spending their time.

Barry had been hired while we were out of town; he was a snot nosed, undisciplined punk. I don't know what Ranger or Tank saw in him. What I saw was someone who had no class and no skills. He thought he was macho and tough, he had wrestled in college and done some cage fighting. Barry didn't quit muscle development at the neck; he was all muscle and no brains, or common sense.

Brett and I worked a takedown with Stephanie which resulted in a less than tidy appearance. I don't know how she gets the guys who like to roll in garbage, but she's consistent in it. It was one of the few times when we got covered in more slime than she did; she was proud, we needed showers and clean clothes.

We ran into Barry and Zero getting a body receipt when we dropped off Steph's skip. Zero had done his fair share of Stephanie Duty, so he merely waved and covered his nose. Barry hadn't been trusted yet to back her up, much less back up her back up.

I heard Barry mutter the 'f' word, no the other 'f' word when he saw us. Zero must have heard it too, because he tried to get Barry to shut up.

"Why are you defending them?" Barry asked Zero.

"You don't know anything about them. Don't cast dispersions."

Brett started to make a move on Barry, I held him back to the best of my ability and Zero tried to hold back Barry.

"It's not worth it, Brett," I said in his ear. "He's a newbie. He doesn't know anything about any of us. He's just making assumptions."

"I don't like anyone making assumptions about me," he said loudly enough to be heard across the room. "I really resent that he thinks he can make assumptions about you. He's never worked with either one of us."

"Get a referee," said Carl from behind the desk, "and take it outside."

"Gladly," Brett said dragging me behind him.

When at all possible, I want to be the peacemaker. There really wasn't much of a point in getting feathers ruffled anymore than they were, was there? I just wanted it to go away. I'm the bigger than most of the other guys and I don't really need to fight to prove anything. All fighting really proves is how well you can take a blow. Since Barry was already a cage fighter, my guess was that he could take several blows and land them, too.

"Come on, let's go home and get cleaned up," I said. "We can go out to dinner or do something tonight. What do you think?"

"What did I tell you?" Barry asked to Zero. "They're both light in their loafers."

The comment did nothing for Brett's temper. Brett would have walked away, could have walked away until the name calling began in earnest. I pulled him off and made him the offer of some fat free brownies and sugar free ice cream at home.

"You're right, Hal, he isn't worth it. Let's go home and get cleaned up," Brett said.

You know, I was really proud of Brett for walking away clean.

"You two are nothing but a pair of …" Barry began when Zero pulled him away. Unfortunately, Barry's mouth continued to work long after he'd been moved away.

"I didn't know that Ranger would hire a pair of fairies," he called.

I know I should be the better man, but this conversation was wearing thin. And this time, it wasn't Brett's temper that was triggered, it was mine.

H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V

"Like the man said, leave us alone. You don't know us, what our relationship is at work or in private. You need to be tolerant because you never know who is who," I said.

I let Brett into the passenger side of the SUV and asked him to start the engine. I walked behind Barry and swept his legs under him dislocating his knee.

"Son of a bitch, that hurt!" Barry said rolling on the ground in pain.

"From now on, leave my partner and me alone. No more comments of any kind."

"Don't take it so seriously, bro."

"I'm way serious, _bro_. Leave all of us alone. Pretend you don't know who Brett, Lester or me. We are complete strangers to you."

I returned to my vehicle and said to Brett, "I'm thinking we should watch the Music Man tonight. You OK with Meat Lover's Pizza?"

~x~x~

I'd been hearing comments in the halls about 'the three stooges' and took up the matter with Tank. No one needed to be rocket scientists to know who they were talking about. It wasn't so much that I have a problem with the Stooges, but not several times per day, it just got old. A bad trend was starting at Rangeman and it needed to be nipped in the bud.

Tank organized a seminar on cultural diversity for all of the offices, it was conducted as a webinar. I really didn't want to see the reactions of anyone else during the presentation; I just hoped it made life easier for others. Lester and Brett weren't doing well with the stigma and I was tired of coming to their defense.

Tank's seminar was conducted by an external company complete with quiz. Barry made such horrible comments throughout that he was actually asked to leave. Later that day, he was asked to leave the company. It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

~x~x~

After about two months, I was sleeping alone and glad of it. I'd have preferred to have slept with a woman, but there were none on the horizon. At least now my space was my own, my habits were my own, and there was no snoring or drooling to deal with in the middle of the night. It felt good but a little lonely.

How did I do it? Easy. I'd paid for three hypnotherapy sessions for each of them, it was money very well spent. I was going to have to look into hypnotherapy for the dating impaired, which I'd declared myself to be. One day, I'll attract women, straight women, I'm sure of it.

* * *

It has been almost six months since Brett and I were partnered in Boston and life is actually somewhat normal now. I mean, we hang out as friends as a result of the whole experience. Then again, we'd had to defend each other's honor a couple of times and that tends to be a bonding experience.

Brett was no longer playing fast and loose with women. He was dating a nice girl named Kathy; she wouldn't have even been on his radar a year ago. He had learned to take his time to look beyond the package to see the person. If he got nothing else out of the whole Boston experience, I'd say that was worth it all on its own.

Lester had taken a vow of poverty, chastity and obedience when he got back to Trenton; it was his way of giving thanks to the almighty for coming home without a new husband, namely Kevin. After a couple of months, he understood what he'd vowed to do and decided that he could just be obedient once in a while and he was poor every time he paid his taxes. The chastity thing really threw him for a loop. He almost signed his 'player of the month club' membership over to Caesar; then he found out what he was giving up, he took his membership back.

I got regular e-mails from Larry and Darryl. There were the questions about whether or not Brett and I actually broke up when we got home. I could honestly tell them that we no longer lived together, but that we had developed a really strong friendship.

Larry did send one very pointed e-mail to me about Barbie. I'd kind of forgotten about the whole Barbie discussion. I explained that I named my AR15 Barbie; Larry forgave me for thinking I'd been cheating on Brett initially. He even forgave me for 'breaking up with Brett', but he held out hope for our reconciliation.

Larry and Darryl wanted to renew their vows in June and invited Brett and me to come. I had a lot of leave time built up, so did Brett. We decided it would be worth it to get away from the office for a few of days. We might actually do some of the sightseeing Brett had initially wanted to do. The weather was better and we wouldn't have the rush or push of work obligations.

~x~x~

Two days before we were supposed to head to Boston, Brett got a call from his cousin, Cory. The grandmother who had raised them was now in the hospital in Concord, New Hampshire. Cory relocated to New Hampshire a couple of years ago and sent for his grandmother earlier this year. He didn't like the idea of her being in the Midwest all alone. Brett had agreed and paid part of her moving expenses. He just hadn't taken the time to see her now that she was closer.

The call came when we were on a surveillance shift. Why are those phone calls always so much more ominous in the dark?

"Can you come and see her? She's been asking for you," Cory had said into the receiver.

"I can be there in a couple of days," he said looking at me. I nodded my agreement. If nothing else, I respect the importance of family. Mine is in Omaha, and I don't get back often enough.

"Can we go to Concord before we head to Boston? I know it isn't on the way, but it's close. Please?"

"Of course, we'll go there first."

~x~x~

Since I'd lived with Brett earlier this year, I knew that I had to pack differently than if I was traveling with anyone else. I took twice as many razors, toothbrushes, and other toiletries than I would normally consider. I even went to the store and bought him extra socks and jockeys; I was going to be prepared this time around.

I was about packed when I realized I didn't have a suit that fit anymore. Brett had called the boys about the dress code and it wasn't completely formal, but a suit was in order. Brett made a phone call to a friend who worked at a big and tall men's store so they'd know I was coming in and we were on a deadline.

I picked out a nice charcoal grey suit; very serviceable. Not fancy and not trendy, but it would work for weddings and funerals for several years to come. I bought a couple of button downs to go with it and a new tie. I don't have much occasion to wear these things, but sometimes you really should look nice.

Brett talked me into new shoes while I was at it; said it would finish off the look. He was right, Bates boots just don't work with a formal suit.

I spent more money on the clothes for a commitment ceremony than I was planning to spend on the entire trip. Well, sometimes it's expensive to do the right thing.

What's the worst thing that could happen? I would have a suit hang in my closet, unworn, for several years. Not so awful, I could definitely live with that.

~x~x~

All hospitals look the same to me, big, cold and impersonal. They all smell the same too: bleach, antiseptic and sickness. None of them have decent sound systems; unless you are actually trained to understand what is being said over the speakers it could be Mandarin Chinese for all I can ever tell.

We got to the room at the same time Cory was coming out of it.

"Thanks for coming," he said as he hugged Brett. "It's been a long time. You doing OK?"

"Yeah. How is she really?"

"Let's talk down the hall," he said. As an afterthought he asked me, "Hey, could you sit with her so she's not alone?"

"Sure, but I don't know what to say to her. I don't know her," I said.

"Just be yourself. She already knows Hal's partner is coming."

I knocked on the door frame and stuck my head inside. "Mrs. Green, may I come in? I'm Hal Day, Brett's partner."

"Please come in, young man. I wanted to get to know you. Brettie talks about you all of the time."

Brett calls his granny a lot?

"He calls me twice a month. The calls aren't long, but it's sweet of him. He doesn't need to, but I love it."

"He's a nice guy."

"Tell me, is he still wild?"

Actually, he'd toned things down a lot since our trip.

"No. He's pretty calm these days."

"Is he ready to settle down?"

I had no idea. I know things had been going well with Kathy, but they'd been going slowly.

"I think you need to ask him that."

"What about you? Are you wild?"

"No. I get called Grandpa at the office. I'm pretty much boring."

"Are you ready to settle down?"

I had been on a handful of dates with Lori and didn't really know where we were headed. She was unhappy that I was going to go on vacation with Brett, but we weren't that close yet. I think if you can vacation with someone you should really know them first. Vacations, especially early on, can be deal breakers.

"I was born settled down. Like I said, I'm not the adventurous type."

"Good. You seem like you are a good influence on Brett."

"I try."

"He said you're his partner. How long have you known my boy?"

"About a year and a half."

"That's long enough to know each other's foibles and faults. And you still get along?"

I nodded. We do get along. In fact, I now saw him as a friend and not an albatross around my neck. There were still moments though when I wanted to kill him.

Did I ever know Brett's faults? I wasn't going to elaborate on any of them, because this wasn't the time or place.

"You know the only thing I want for him is that he is happy. If he's happy, I can live with any of the decisions he makes."

At about that time, Brett and his cousin came back. Brett was looking like all the wind was out of his sails and he needed to leave.

"I'm going to go to the cafeteria and get some coffee. Can I get anything for anybody?" I asked as I rose from my chair.

"I'll go with you," Corry said. "We'll be back."

As we looked for the elevator, I asked Cory if Brett was going to be all right.

"Sure, he'll be fine. But Grandma isn't doing well. Her doctor thinks this could be her last illness."

H.

"I'm sorry."

"She's old but she's had a great life. Neither of our parents did such a great job raising us, so we wound up on her doorstep as kids. She took us in and gave us the stability we needed and the love we craved."

That's sweet.

"It's part of why Brett has been such a womanizer, he's been looking for the stability of love he only got when he lived with her. I hope he changes his ways."

"He's been dating a nice girl for a couple of months."

"Is it serious?"

"I don't know. Brett doesn't kiss and tell."

"Do you?"

I raised my eyebrow and pushed the call button for the elevator.

"No."

~x~x~

"Hal?" Brett asked as I came out of the shower.

"Yeah?"

"How did you like my granny?"

"I thought she was nice," I said. "Why?"

"She liked you a lot."

That's nice, but what difference does that really make?

"She approves of you."

"Well, I guess I approve of her, too."

Where is this going anyway?

"Can we talk more about her in the morning when we head to Boston?"

"Sure. If you really want to talk now, we can."

"Nah. I need to figure it out in my head first."

"I didn't ask you what kind of a book you wanted to read this time. I brought John Grisham's Playing for Pizza. Is that OK with you?"

"Sure. I love Grisham. He does suspense really well."

"This is a book about American football in Italy."

"That'll work. I hope there aren't a lot of descriptions about the pasta, I'm watching my carbs, I wanted to look good for the trip."

I've been watching mine because I finally got my six pack back and I'd missed it.

"I'll start reading when you get out of the shower."

"I've missed reading in bed with you, it was nice this winter."

"Yeah it was. Boston really wasn't all that bad when we were there together was it?"

"My favorite part was when Lester was with us," he said. "I heard Kevin say that there was no charge for awesomeness or attractiveness."

"Yeah, and I remember Lester's answer. 'There is a charge for the funhouse mirror you use if you think you are awesome and attractive.'"

"He didn't take Lester's hint, did he?"

"Nope. I'm ready for lights out. Hurry up the shower."

"Fine. Fine."

* * *

A/N: Hal could use a nap ... He's dealt with a lot of prejudice. He's gotten his own bed back. He's gotten his 6 pack back (and is darned proud of it). He's met the only family Brett has in the world.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Alf.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer, same as before. Not making a dime, but having an incredibly good time with the boys.

**The Ultimate Debate 12  
What's the Worst Thing that Could Happen? Part 2  
by Alfonsina**

We were perusing the breakfast menu when I asked Brett if we needed to spend more time with his granny before we headed to Boston.

"Not if we can swing back and see her on the way home."

Why not?

"Sure. Didn't you want to talk about relationships last night?"

"Kind of, but I think I want to talk to Larry about them first."

"I don't think he can give you dating advice. Things going okay with Kathy, aren't they?"

"Sort of, she just doesn't understand big parts of me," he said turning the page.

I could understand that, it takes a big investment of time to really understand someone.

"Well, if you want to talk, let me know. Do you think they've got herbal tea?" I asked.

"Sure, they had a display at the hostess station. Hey, don't you really want to try the Belgian waffles with the strawberry filling and whipped cream?"

Yes, I did. But I really preferred how my pants fit right now, they were really comfortable.

"I think I'll stick to an egg-white omelet with veggies."

"Do you want to split one dessert kind of a thing?"

When Brett starts offering sugared things he usually wants something. It didn't look like chocolate was going to be an issue, so far, so good.

"But this is vacation."

"Order what you want," I said.

He ordered the farm hand special: three eggs, ham, bacon, pan-fried potatoes, and pan cakes.

"Usually you just do coffee and a muffin. Something is really bothering you, isn't it?"

"Not now, Hal. I really want to talk to Larry first."

That didn't sound good.

"Once we get settled, do you have anything in particular you want to do today?" I asked.

"Depends on how the talk with Larry goes. Darryl wanted to know if you'd help him decorate the backyard."

Why not? It's small and shouldn't take too long.

~x~x~

Our arrival at the bed and breakfast was akin to a welcome to the conquering heroes or the prodigal sons. Larry and Darryl embraced each of us and looked incredibly happy; probably about their upcoming ceremony.

"Let me look at you," Larry said to me. "Turn for me."

_Great I was now eight years old standing in front of my great-aunt Sophie, spinning to show her just how much I'd grown in the last year._

"You look amazing," Darryl breathed.

"What about me?" Brett said.

"Sugar, you were perfect before. But he's really gotten tight," Larry said.

_Thanks so much, ladies._

I had assumed we'd each get our own room this time around, but they'd assumed since we were coming 'together' that we'd want to share again. Of course we would. Right.

Well, what's the worst thing that could happen? It isn't like I haven't slept with Brett in the past, what's another couple of days.

"We've put you back in the biggest room again."

"The one that has the Somewhere in Time theme?" Brett gushed, "That's my favorite."

"Of course it is, sweetie. Your Auntie Larry wouldn't dream of disappointing you."

Eww.

"Hey, Larry, once we've unpacked, can we talk?" Brett asked. "Hal has volunteered to help Darryl with the decorations."

Yes, Hal has 'volunteered' again. No problem.

"Sure thing, pumpkin. Come down when you're ready. I've baked your favorite cookies and we'll have some tea and talk like old women."

~x~x~

Darryl and I did a general tidy of the yard, weeded the flower beds and organized a little area for the minister or whoever the officiate was going to be.

Yard work is the biggest trade off opposed to an apartment. Apartments don't require the work of a house; no yard to do, no roof to fix, most of the maintenance is done by someone else, and no privacy. Houses can be great, privacy and the ability to control your own environment, but the responsibility is so much more.

Darryl wanted to move the speakers from the stereo outside to provide music for the occasion. He had several classical CDs to choose from but the one he really liked was Baroque for Brides to be a Musical Bouquet for Your Wedding Day. Darryl loved it and had been playing it all month; Larry wanted something else, anything else. In the end Darryl got what he wanted for music because Larry got to choose the flowers: white tulips and orangish/pinkish roses.

I hung the speakers to the porch, moved speaker wire and hid it. I used to set up stereos as a teenager to make extra money. When my sister and her friends went to college, I'd go up after they moved and wired their dorm rooms or apartments. I usually only made enough money to cover the gas, but I could brag that I'd been alone with a girl in her dorm. It was a lot of street cred for a sixteen year old who'd never had the courage to ask a girl on a date.

About lunch time, Larry and Brett came out of the house bringing a tray of lemonade and glasses and a pile of turkey salad sandwiches.

"Is there anything else we can do to help you get ready for tomorrow?" Brett asked between mouthfuls.

"If you are willing to run our errands, I'd be ever so grateful," Darryl said patting Brett's hand. "There's the baker, the florist and the drycleaner. And …"

"Sweetling, you are going to overburden our guests," Larry said.

"But they offered," Darryl said. "It was a real offer, wasn't it?"

Brett nodded.

"You know, we are so relieved that you two have mended your fences," Larry said.

I just smiled, it was easier. It wasn't that they were broken, but a small space in a fishbowl just doesn't work for me long term.

After we cleared the lunch debris, Brett gave Larry a look. Larry dragged Darryl into the house ostensibly so we could be alone.

Don't get me wrong, I have no problem being alone with Brett, but I wasn't really loving the vibes he was putting off right about now.

"Hal, I need to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"This is awkward," he said. "I don't know how to say it."

"Just spit it out. I'm sure it isn't all that bad."

"Okay, but remember that you said it."

He stood from the table, walked around the yard a couple of times, and finally circled back.

"It's about my grandmother."

_Oh G. Yep, capital G._

"She and I had a really serious talk yesterday. And she told me what would make her happy before she dies."

"You don't know that she's going to die. Doctors are wrong all of the time. That's why everyone says doctors _practice_ medicine."

"Yeah, but still."

"Sorry, I interrupted you. You and your grandmother talked about what would make her really happy. Go on."

"She wants to see me married."

"Are you ready to propose to Kathy? I didn't think you were serious about her."

"I am and I'm not. I mean, I could probably propose, but it just doesn't feel right."

"Do you have a runner up?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what was going to come out.

K L M N O P Q R S

"Yeah, kind of."

T U V W X Y Z AA BB CC DD

_Breathe, Hal. Breathe. It will all be fine. I'm sure he's not going to say what you think he's going to say._

"Hal, will you help me make my grandmother happy and go through a commitment ceremony with me?"

"Uh, no. I'm not that kind of a guy. I don't want to deceive your grandmother."

"She already thinks you are my _partner_ and you and I would know that nothing would change. We'd still be friends after it's all over."

I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself, put my head on the table and tried not to come unglued.

"What's the worst thing that could happen? It'd just be on paper and it isn't like we'd file the license or anything. It's only fifty bucks in Boston to make an old lady happy."

I opened my eyes after I blew out a deep breath.

_Fine.__ Sure. Why not? What's the worst thing that could happen?_

"How is she going to know that you've actually done it?"

"Easy, we can have it broadcast on the web. We could even do a You Tube video of it as a joke."

"I hate cameras. Couldn't we just do it in her hospital room?"

"She's in the wrong state. The only state that honors same sex marriage is Massachusetts, so we've got to do it here."

Ducky. Just ducky.

"Larry and Darryl will even let us do it here. They've offered to postpone their own service so we can use their minister and their time slot. Please?" he begged.

_Begging is better than whining, I guess._

"Isn't there a waiting period?" I asked hoping to get time on my side.

"There's a three day wait normally, but we can get it waived if we go before a judge. We can tell the truth that time isn't something Grandma has a lot of and she really wants this to happen."

_No. No way. If I had three days I could talk him out of this, now I was looking at a runaway train with no way to get off of the tracks._

I hung my head and said, "Sure. If it will make your grandmother happy, I'll do it. But we can't tell anyone."

"Ooh, there's a problem with that. I've already called Lester to get him to come and do the computer hookups for the broadcast."

_Oh God. He may as well have told the entire world. So now it won't be a secret back at the office. F. Well, we've lived down worse and the assumption that we were a couple before, we'll just live this down after it's all said and done._

"And," he said excitedly, "Kevin is a jeweler and he's going to give us a great price on rings."

_Rings?__Rings?__ I don't want a ring. __No way, no how.__ I'm not going to wear a wedding ring for a few days to further the sham of a paper marriage._

"I take it Kevin is coming?"

"Yeah, he was really excited that Lester's gonna be here."

_Okay, so now I have the silver lining to my dark cloud. I won't be alone in my sufferings._

~x~x~

It turned out that all of the errands we were going to run for Larry and Darryl were the errands that we needed to run for ourselves, plus one. You know, the one where we go to a courthouse and fill in the paperwork.

After we obtained the license from the clerk, Brett was so excited he tried to hug me.

"Not in public, man," I said.

"Oh, yeah. Not in public," Brett said. "I can't believe I'm getting married!"

"You are just a little too excited about this Brett."

"No, now I know that my grandmother can rest in peace. She likes you, she approved of you, _and _she thinks you're a good influence."

"You already told her?"

"Yeah. I wanted to make sure she approved before I talked to Larry about it."

_He could talk to Larry first and then me? Isn't that backwards?_

"I talked to Larry first to see if he'd let us use his garden. I wanted to know if he was open to a double wedding. Larry wanted it so much that he gave up his special day."

_Where is there a rock I can hide under? Is there a rock big enough for me to hide under?_

"Brett?"

"Yeah?"

"Before we go back to the house, I need to stop and get a frozen Snickers bar."

"Are you sure you really _want_ a frozen Snickers? I mean, you've been so good lately watching your sugars and your carbs."

"It isn't optional. In fact, I'm probably going to buy a case of candy bars and you can just deal with it."

I didn't bother to look to see if he pouted or not; I need medication and quickly.

* * *

A/N Hal has really been too kind to Brett in all of this ... and the worst is yet to come, kind of.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing!


	13. Chapter 13

The standard disclaimers remain in force ...

A/N: Hal hasn't found out where I live yet, so I'm safe today ... don't know how long that will last.

**The Ultimate Debate Chapter 13  
By Alf who is providing adult beverages and sugary sweets to Hal**

We had gotten back from running errands, you know the ones I thought I'd run when I was engaged to a _woman_. I still can't believe that for all intents and purposes, I'm Brett's fiancé. I just can't get my head around it, and I don't even want to try. Anyway, Brett was so excited about even _having_ a special day that it didn't bother him that we're both men.

We met Larry and Darryl at their favorite diner at supper time. It was a cute little place, lots of atmosphere and not a surplus of chintz, lace or doilies.

"I want to eat something light tonight so I'm not bloated tomorrow," Brett said. "I think I'll have a salad and some steamed fish."

Larry and Darryl ordered whatever their standard faire was and looked expectantly at me.

"I'm going to have the chowder, large prime rib cooked medium, two baked potatoes smothered in sour cream, and a salad drowned in blue cheese dressing."

"Someone will be cranky in the morning," the server, whose name tag read Stanley, said. "You know, we have some amazing chicken dishes."

I glared. "No. I know what I want and that's what I want. I expect you to serve it to me the way I ordered it. I don't need the Surgeon General's warnings or speeches when it arrives."

The waiter looked at the rest of the group and shrugged the "what's up with him" shrug.

Larry said, "He's getting married in the morning, he's got the jitters."

"Who's the lucky guy?" Stanley asked.

Brett's smile lit up the room. "Me. It's me. I never thought I'd get married."

_Where the hell are you from? Krypton? Did he really just say that?_

"Oh, sweetie, how exciting for all of you!"

_Oh yes, he did. God, can I just die now? Maybe I can melt into a puddle on the floor and they can mop me up after this is all over and no one will ever need to know about this entire debacle._

"It will be over before you even know it," the waiter said. "Freddie and I made it legal last month. The sex is so much better now that it's all legit."

_Too much information. L M N O P Q … Z AA BB CC_

"So are you going to place our order or do I need to ask to talk to the manager?" I asked in a huff. I needed a little protein to balance out the four candy bars I ate this afternoon.

"Fine," he said as he flounced away.

Dinner was quiet once the food arrived. I mean, there was conversation, but I just grunted when things were directed at me. Initially I thought I was doing Brett a favor and it was getting to be so much more than I'd thought or imagined it was going to be.

"Kevin is coming early tomorrow," Larry said.

"Why?" I said between mouthfuls of blueberry cobbler, my second piece.

"The rings, silly, you can't have forgotten already," Brett said. "I hope he's got some matching sets that'll fit both of us."

_Matching bands? How much worse could this get? Never mind. As something like that of the Universe and you'll soon find out._

"When's Lester coming?" I asked. I wanted someone else to be suffering with me and Lester was as good a choice as any.

"Lester will be here around 10:00 to set up."

I waved for the waiter to come back to the table. "An order of strawberry shortcake," I said.

"I love strawberry shortcake. Share?" Brett asked.

"Two forks?" asked the waiter.

I shook my head. "No. Two orders, oh and some vanilla ice cream on the side."

"You're going to be in a food coma when I get you home," Brett said.

"I'm good with that." I just wish that it will last a couple of days. Maybe if I eat enough I won't be cognizant at all of tomorrow.

~x~x~

I wish I could say the ceremony was over in less time than it took to tell a dirty joke, but I can't. It was forever, mostly I guess because I wanted to die the entire time.

It turns out that the suit I bought for the trip was the same one that Brett had. We looked like the freaking Bobsy twins; the only difference other than our heights was in the tie; mine was a quiet stripe and his was a very vivid floral.

Brett spent forty-five minutes ironing the shirts, hankies and pleats on the pants so we would both look _sharp_. I was willing to look comatose and comfortable; I didn't have any luck with that at all.

I got up extra early that morning to run. I ran five miles before I realized I hadn't paid any attention to where I was and didn't care. I decided to run until my legs gave out, at mile twelve according to my pedometer, Brett came up beside me in the SUV.

"I didn't think you were training for a marathon."

"I'm not," I panted while continuing to put one foot in front of the other.

"We need to get cleaned up and set up the rest of the stuff for the broadcast."

At least he's not calling it anything else right now.

"Yeah, I know," I said as I got into his car.

"Besides, Kevin wants you to pick out your ring now."

"I don't want a ring," I said blowing out yet another sigh. I'm beginning to feel like all I do anymore is sigh and look at my watch. There's more to me, I swear it, it just doesn't feel like that right now.

"But I've already paid for a matching set, it will make it so much better on the broadcast my granny sees."

_Paid? Brett actually paid for something? This is more important to him than I realized._

I nodded and looked out the window.

We were greeted by Kevin when we got 'home'.

"Is he here yet?" he asked.

_Is Kevin related to Brett or what? I mean, the man was bouncing on his heels._

"Who?" I asked. "You mean Lester?"

If he bobbed his head up and down any harder it might be in danger of coming loose.

"Yes. Is he here?"

"He's due in a couple of hours," I said walking over to the fridge to get a bottle of cold water.

"I can't wait to see him again," he said. "But since I have to wait, let's all look at rings." Kevin opened a brief case that had several matching ring sets and some that were singles. "Now let's slip this on and see just how big a boy you are."

Eww.

After trying on all of the rings in the kit, it was determined that my fingers were size 17.

"You lucky boy," Kevin said to Brett. "I don't think I have anything that matches that will fit both of you."

I looked at the two of them and shook my head. I knew what they were thinking and I just couldn't let my mind go there without a significant amount of brain bleach.

Kevin pulled out several rings that had diamonds, Brett kept talking about how he'd always wanted diamonds in a wedding ring. Just last week he was talking about women, what's going on inside of that pea brain of his anyway?

Brett found several he _loved_ and there were a couple that were plain that fit me, sort of. The rings that were my size barely went past my knuckle and there wasn't time to get anything sized. I opted for the loosest fit, which merely meant it didn't cut off circulation in my fingers.

I had to go to the bathroom to soap off the ring when Brett finally Okayed it.

While I was in the bathroom, and let me tell you it took quite a bit of liquid soap to loosen that ring, there was considerable hubbub outside the door.

"You're here!" exclaimed the voice.

I couldn't tell if it was Brett or Kevin, but I figured that Lester had just arrived.

"You're staying for the whole thing, right?" the voice asked. "I want the first dance after the grooms have their first dance."

"Get off of me, man," grumbled Lester. Must have been Kevin talking. "I'm not playing hard to get. I'm not here for a date. Terri is upset that I came alone."

"Terri? My don't you move fast?"

I opened the bathroom door and Lester flew into my arms.

"I'm only here because you were the best partner I ever had," he said. "If I'd known _he_ was coming, I'd have sent Hector."

"Glad you're here, man. Are you staying the night?" I asked him.

"No way in hell. None. Nope. Not doing it. I'm going to need to see a therapist when I get home," he whispered. "Can you get me the number of that hypnotherapist? I'm going to need to see her again."

"Don't sleep well alone, _lover_?" Kevin asked.

"I sleep just fine when I'm alone. I prefer not to sleep alone and Terri doesn't want to sleep with me just yet; wants to know how the relationship is going."

"Sounds like it isn't serious enough yet for me to worry. I'll let you sleep with me."

"I'd rather sleep with Hal and Brett," Lester said.

I nodded. I'm good with that. I brought the air mattress and I had no problem sleeping on it so he and Brett could share the bed.

"No. You aren't invited into the honeymoon suite the first night. Their first night as husbands is supposed to be special," Larry said butting in. "I need to safeguard your rings until the ceremony. Give it here."

He held out his hand in expectation and Lester's jaw dropped several inches. Perfect.

"Lester, let me help you with the equipment," I said putting my arm over his shoulder. "We've got about two hours."

"Can I shower and change in your room after this is over?" he asked.

"Sure, Les. Whatever you need."

"Keep me safe," he said.

"No problem. I'll keep you safe and you keep me sane."

"What about me?" Brett whined.

"Don't you need to iron something or fluffy something? You do it so much better than I do," I said.

"Okay. But no gossiping while you're out there alone and unsupervised."

"Promise."

~x~x~

"You're really going through with this?" Lester asked.

"It's just a paper thing, it isn't like the license is going to be filed or anything when it's all over. Brett wants his grandmother to die happy, this will do that, or so he says."

Lester looked me in the eyes and said, "You're sure?"

"No. But I promised and I keep my promises."

"Okay, let's set it up."

To be continued……….

* * *

A/N: thank you for reading, reviewing and offering to hold hands with Hal to keep him calm. Brett is looking for someone who is as excited as he is that he is getting MARRIED! alf


	14. Chapter 14

Standard disclaimers, the never change do they? *Sigh* Not making and not gonna make any money on this endeavor, not even making a referral fee for Hal, Brett, or Lester for their therapy sessions.

**The Ultimate Debate Chapter 14  
****By Alfonsina  
who is convinced Hal needs a little more sugar in his diet  
**

I blame this all on my mother. That's right. I blame it on Mom. She made me go to church, the boy scouts, and get involved in civic organizations from a young age. Right now, I think my life would have turned out to be happier if I had played video games, owned a snake and been anti-social.

If she hadn't done those things, I wouldn't be standing in front of a small group of men about to make a _verbal, thank you very much_, commitment to Brett. I promised he'd be able to make his grandmother happy, I didn't realize how big a price I'd pay for an old woman's happiness.

The officiate, looked vaguely familiar, in fact very, very familiar. I just couldn't place her face. It was odd that she was the only woman, but it didn't really matter right now, did it? Besides, if I wasn't getting married at this exact moment, I'd consider asking her out. I've never had good luck or good timing.

K L M N O P

She asked if we had written our own vows. I hadn't written a word. I spent the night in the bed with a compress on my forehead wishing the room would quit spinning.

Brett whispered, "Larry gave me his vows to Darryl and Darryl's to Larry are in your pocket. They're typed so you should be able to read them pretty easily."

Great. Just what I wanted, personalized vows to a man. I'm really happy that there won't be anything but a bad youtube video as a result of all this when it is finally over.

I felt around until I found a folded sheet of paper.

"You really want me to read this out loud?"

_Please, for the love of God, say no. Please?????_

He nodded, eyes shining.

This had better not be Emily Dickinson or some other love poem. Let it be something like 'friends, best friends, really.' Yeah, that's it.

That wasn't it. It wasn't. It wasn't even remotely like that.

I took a minute to read it to myself first and felt myself getting pale.

"You ok?" Larry asked.

I moved my head up and down like I understood what was going on around me when I was all the way in overwhelm.

I know I had panic in my eyes when I asked Brett, "Really?"

I just couldn't get past the 'ick' factor of all of this.

"Please?"

_Oh God. Here we go._

I whispered the words because there was no way I could say them loudly enough for anyone else to hear.

"_Some days, I wonder._

_I wonder why you love me. I wonder if you love me. I wonder how I could be so lucky. I wonder what it all means._

_Your soul is kind and good. Would that I could say it was innocent or naïve, but I'd be the naïve one to say that. You've seen much and experienced much; some good, some not._

_At night when I hear you breathing, it gives me a sense of wholeness, of completion. I know that you, my rock, are still there and I don't have to face the world alone any more._

_My fears are simple and straight forward. I fear you'll express your boredom with me in horrible ways. I fear you will leave me for another. I fear your untimely death._

_I know my fears aren't real, that you don't deserve my hesitancy, but they are always in the backdrop._

_I look forward to your jokes, your stories, your perspective, your touch._

_I wonder, while you sleep, if you wonder about me. After I'm done wondering, I touch your hair or your arm and realize that you are incredibly wonderful to me._

_Thank you, for being the wonder of my life. I love you always. "_

Brett beamed. Of course he did. So did the minister, whatever her name was.

"Do you want me to read them louder so the guys can all hear?" Brett asked.

"No. Absolutely not. Not on your life, buddy."

"Fine, now it is my turn."

How am I going to live with myself now that I have read this total schlock on film? I think it's past time for a candy bar. I think I want to bury my face in a vat of fudge, full sugar with walnuts on top.

Brett looked at Darryl and said, "Whenever you're ready."

That's when the music started. It was a show tune. I hope it's at least going to be up tempo. Maybe something from Guys and Dolls? That was a manly musical, wasn't it?

It wasn't.

Brett took a mike and looked at me and then our audience and said, "_Do you remember the Barbara Streisand movie 'On a Clear Day You Can See Forever'. I love the title song so much. I am not, nor have I ever been an eloquent man, but this song sums up how I see you. And despite the glasses, the beginnings of a paunch and a slightly graying temple, I know that it is how I will see you for the next fifty years._

Could anyone among us  
Have an inkling on a clue?  
What magic feats, or wizardry  
And voodoo you can do?  
And who would ever guess  
What powers you possess?

On a clear day  
Rise and look around you  
And you'll see who you are.  
On a clear day  
How it will astound you  
That the glow of your being outshines ev'ry star.

You'll feel part of ev'ry mountain sea and shore.  
You can hear, from far and near,  
A world you've never heard before.  
And on a clear day...  
On that clear day...  
You can see forever and ever more!

_I hope that fifty years is enough to convince you just how much I love you."_

The minister went on about something or other. I couldn't get the sound of Barbara Streisand out of my head or the fact that Brett has a nice timbre in his voice when he sings.

"… by the powers vested in me by … "

Is there time for me to pass out? What about hyperventilate?

"I now pronounce you partners for life. You may kiss," she concluded.

Brett looked a little too happy as he came in to kiss me.

"Slip me any tongue and you are a dead man before the ink dries on the license," I said with not a little threat in my voice.

"Spoil sport."

He gave me a quick peck on the lips.

"Brett, we need to talk after this is over," I said.

~x~x~

After we did the official vows, H I J K L M N O P T U … CC DD EE FF GG, I still can't get my head around it, we had to do the official signing of the paperwork that would be filed to make all of this official.

I signed my full name: Harold Engelbert Day

Brett signed his full name: Brett Gary Davis

Larry and Darryl both signed and then the reverend signed: Georgina LaFayette.

Georgina? That's when I realized who she was, this was Gina from speed dating so many months ago. How exactly was she tied into all of this?

"You never told me," Brett said looking at my signature. "Engelbert?"

I glared. I'm getting almost as good with my glares as with my sighing. "I didn't pick it out. My mom liked him a lot … she also liked Tom Jones but thought that was too common." I didn't want to tell Brett that my sister, Noel, was born in December. My sister, Valerie, was born in February. And my sister, Freedom, was born in July. My folks have a twisted sense of humor.

There wasn't a lot of time to talk about the niceties because there was cake. It was a single tier, but three layers with lemon and raspberry filling. I planned to eat about half of it myself, unfortunately, Larry kept making small pieces for everyone … so the _singles_ could put it in their freezer to eat a year later when they find their own true loves. I was in love with the baker, not the man who was at the table next to me. Did anyone else realize this? Probably not because Brett kept trying to play with my hair and putting his arm over my shoulder.

"Remember what I said yesterday," I hissed. "I know you can think that far back."

"No, pumpkin? What did you say yesterday?"

"No public displays of anything, ever," I said. "I'm not that guy. And don't call me pumpkin."

Did I really just say that? Probably my evil twin has taken control of my mouth; about D time. I'd never say anything like that. Nope. I mean, I'm not a groper in public, but I've kissed my fair share of girls in clubs and on the street. I have no intention of letting things get any further with Brett than they are. It's bad enough sleeping with him when he drools.

Brett looked a little hurt, but went to talk to Mark at another table. I needed a little room to breathe. I wasn't allowed any room though. Not today, anyway. Probably not ever again.

"Man, you really did it," Lester said as he started to pack up his equipment. "I didn't think you'd have the balls."

_Thanks Lester._

I scowled.

"You know what I mean. What do you want me to tell the guys at the office now that it's over?" he asked.

"There's nothing to tell the guys. No one but you is from the office so no one knows."

"Dude, you live a very sheltered life. Brett sent out a link so the guys could all watch it live. I got a bunch of phone calls this morning wishing you the best."

_Fuck. No, I'm not using a letter. This was too emotional and too much to be a mere letter. This deserved the whole and entire word._

"Besides," Lester went on. Couldn't he just shut up right about now? "George was your minister."

_George? All these months I've wanted to meet George and had no idea who he was and it turns out George is Georgina?_

"Where is George? I've got to make sure that she didn't take the paperwork with her," I said.

"There's a little problem with that. George has already gone. She left when the cake was being cut. She's got a distraction tonight." Of course she does. "And she took it with her."

_Great. She's detail oriented._

"Maybe she won't file it."

"It's her first gig as a reverend of the Universal Church of Light. She only got ordained for you two, she wanted to make sure she covered all of her bases. She did it last night on line, she sent me a text with her information around 3:30."

"You didn't?" I asked Lester. "You didn't give her directions to the court house did you?"

"Well, no. I didn't need to. Dude, she's native. She knows her way around here."

_F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F F_

_G G G G G G G G G G G G G G G G G G G G_

_H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H H_

_I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I_

_J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J_

_K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K K_

I went back to the head table and sat next to Brett.

"She took the paperwork with her," I said quietly.

"Yeah, I know. I handed it to her," he said with a smile.

"Brett, this was just a paper thing. You remember that right?"

"I got caught up in the heat of the moment. Sorry."

~x~x~

There was no way I was leaving the table early. It wasn't like I wanted to talk to everyone. It was more a matter of not wanting to go into the room and yell, sorry Talk, to Brett. It was more a matter of not wanting to deal with the realities.

"Sorry that Lester already left," Kevin said. "He didn't even stay for the first dance."

I didn't want to stay for the first dance either, but didn't have much of a choice.

When things finally came to a close, Larry and Darryl came up to us and handed us an envelope.

"Boys, we are _so_ happy for you that we got you something special," Larry said.

Didn't you do enough?

"You didn't have to," I said. "We have imposed enough on you two."

"But we want to," Darryl said. "We love young love."

Sure they do. Doesn't everyone?

"Can I open it?" Brett asked.

I nodded, sure. Whatever floats your boat. We aren't keeping it, whatever it is.

"No way. You didn't?" he all but squealed at Larry and Darryl.

They smiled like indulgent parents.

"How did you know it's what I wanted?" Brett went on.

"I give. What is it?" I asked. I asked out of good form, not out of curiosity.

"Three nights in P-town. A friend of ours has a little B&B. We thought you might have a good time," Larry said.

P-town? Provincetown? Gay-ville? Oh God. Not that. Anywhere but that.

"I really don't know what to say," I said. I really didn't know what to say. I didn't even know if I could look myself in the mirror anymore.

"You boys are special to us, when Brett said you didn't plan a honeymoon, we called Charlie. Charlie is dying to meet you."


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: 15th Verse, same as the first. Just having some fun.

A/N: It is short, but the scaring is minimal

**The Ultimate Debate 15****  
****by Alfonsina**

When Brett and I got back from our _little_ trip, I was exhausted emotionally and physically. I had intended to be out of town for five days, see a couple of friends, and go back to my life. My life was boring but it was mine. It was ordered, quiet and uninvolved for the most part.

I came home after being gone ten days a married man. It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd married a woman and done it voluntarily, but I'd married Brett because he wanted to make someone else happy. The worst of it was, being married really made Brett feel special. He equates marriage to love, which is good. Since he's spent his whole life looking for love, being married, even though it was only to me, validated him somehow.

I tried several times to broach the idea of a divorce, but he would stick his fingers in his ears and say "la la la la la la …" until I was quiet. After the tenth time, I gave up.

Provincetown was actually quite nice, very beachy and scenic. I've always liked the beach. It was troubling when Brett kept insisting on putting lotion on me; the back I could understand, maybe. The front of me? I can lotion that by myself, thank you very much. He also tried to pick a fight with a guy on the beach who looked at me for more than one and a half seconds; I'm not into guys, but just how jealous is Brett anyway?

It also disturbed me that every time I looked at him, he was admiring his wedding ring. Yes, it was handsome. Yes, it was macho. Yes, he'd picked it out all by himself. Are women this bad when they get married? If they are, I may have to rethink the idea of getting married _to a woman_ in the first place. I looked at my ring and couldn't wait to will it off of my finger.

When we reached the Trenton city limits, he got sulky. Of course he did. He was acting like I was going to abandon him, just because that was what I wanted to do meant nothing. But by the way he was acting you'd think I was leaving him pregnant with several small children and a large mortgage.

"Will things be weird now?" he asked.

L M N O P Q R S

"Things are already weird, Brett."

_Was he doing his Alicia Silverstone impression from the movie Clueless or what?_

"No, I mean are you going to treat me differently?"

"I'm not sleeping with you anymore if that's what you mean."

Everywhere we went for the last ten days, Brett told everyone we'd just gotten married. We had all kinds of things comped and upgraded that might not have been otherwise. My big mistake was when I tried to get a couple of hotel rooms one night. Brett pouted.

"There's only one bed in the rooms here," I said.

"But we've been sharing a lot lately."

"Brett, it's just a double bed. I don't fit on a double by myself let alone with anyone else."

"Fine. I won't sleep in the bed with you. Why don't I take the air mattress and I can sleep next to you?"

What do you say to that? It was like I was going to kick a puppy if I didn't give in.

"Okay, but if you get cold, you're on your own."

We pulled into the parking garage on Haywood and I felt a huge weight off my chest. We rode the elevator in silence; I was pleased and Brett wasn't. We each went to our own doors, unlocked them and entered our own apartments. Okay, that's what was supposed to happen. I unlocked my door and entered at the same time Brett did and that's when I realized that the wall that had existed between our apartments was no longer there.

He smiled and waved at me. "Is this cool or what?"

"Did you do this?" I asked. I wasn't seething, I was too tired to seeth.

"No, of course not. I would have if I thought they might do it. Who do you think had the construction ordered?"

"I don't even want to guess."

I walked around and saw that I still had my own kitchen and my own bathroom. My bedroom had changed, I no longer had the standard queen sized bed, now it was a king.

"Hey Brett?"

"Yeah?"

"Is your place the same except for the wall thing?"

"Let me check."

I don't know if he thought he was looking for the fountain of youth, but he didn't answer me for a long time. I decided to look for him.

Where Brett used to have a bedroom was now a media room. It looked like one of those rooms they redo on those home improvement shows. Everything conceivable was there and probably some things that weren't.

"Cool, huh?"

"Do you still have a bed?" I didn't want to hear the answer.

"I don't think so."

"Great. Looks like we're sharing again."

"Yay!"

I shook my head. I went to the bathroom and tried to soap off the ring, it wouldn't come loose. I've been trying since I got married to take the thing off and it doesn't budge.

Now I know why some women fatten up their husbands. Get him big enough and the ring doesn't come off; harder to pick up women if you look married.

Sadly I looked very married and unless I went somewhere to have it cut off, I was stuck wearing the ring until my fingers quit swelling.

* * *

A/N: Brett is in love with being in love; I think Hal realizes he could have just bought him a puppy and gotten the same result.

ONE CHAPTER TO GO!!!

Thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Alf.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimers: No one got hurt, no profit was made, all the toys have been put back in JE's toy box. I just hope she didn't find out.

A/N: I'd like to thank all of the plot bunnies for helping with brainstorming this little baby and helping me answer the question, What's the worst thing that could happen. Bluzkat, Cat, Deb B, Deb WSF, Katbaby, Katie, Letha, Melody, Nicole, Robin, Tiina, Tuck: ladies please take a bow. I'll be buying the jello shots later, there's a special on the cherry flavored ones tonight. Cabana boys have been provided to drive you home as our way of saying thanks.

**The Ultimate Debate 16  
by Alfonsina**

"I can't believe you'd cheat on me."

"I didn't cheat on you," I said calmly. I'd left my shadow at home for the day and went to the beach to have some quality alone time. I got home later than I expected, but I hadn't felt this relaxed in a long, long time."

"You took off your wedding ring so you could get a date with a _woman_," he snarked.

"Yes, I took the ring off. It was cutting off circulation to my finger. And yes, I have a date with a woman after our divorce is finalized."

"But I don't want a divorce. I want to be married."

"Brett, don't you want to be married to a woman? Don't you want to have kids some day? Don't you ever want to have sex again?" I wasn't sure if he could hear me. Brett does denial better than Stephanie ever could.

"But the guys just threw us greatest wedding reception ever. Everybody had a great time. Plus we got some killer presents."

"We don't need five crock pots, a pair of matching iPods, matching fluffy robes, or a romantic dinner for two at Chateau Way Too Expensive," I said. "The presents all have to go back."

I want to be reasonable. I want to be calm. I want to be cool. I want to be collected. I want to be with a woman and I can't as long as I'm married to Brett.

"And they remodeled _our_ apartment and are going to help us relocate to Boston if we want that." It was obvious, he didn't hear a word I said.

But Brett was right. Our individual apartments were combined while we were gone; the conversion to one large living space hadn't been completed. Stephanie's uncle Sid was the contractor who did the initial work and Ella arranged to have the man cave outfitted and the bed changed. I never did find out whose brainchild the remodel was, not that it mattered.

Ranger took the entire thing seriously. He had actually been very kind about offering us the transfer to Boston since we might _fit in better_ there than in Trenton. He wanted us to live and work where we'd be accepted and happy. We could stay in Trenton if we wanted and we could stay in our apartment if we chose.

He did say that if we decided to adopt children, we'd need to move out of the building. Children, no matter how well behaved, can be very distracting; j k l m n so can Brett.

"Brett, you know we aren't in love don't you?"

"Well…"

_Oh God, here it comes._

"That's not entirely true."

_Breathe, Hal, breathe. You've been through worse. You had to pick up Stephanie's grandmother once from her belly dancing class when she was in her costume and kept trying to impress you with her belly rolls._

"Use small words and tell me exactly what you mean by that, Brett."

"Okay. You are my best friend."

I nodded, I was also pretty much his only friend some days.

"We like a lot of the same things."

Again this was true.

"We aren't bored when we are alone together."

He wasn't bored, he was usually the one conducting the conversation. I did start to listen to him and he did have some insights.

"You like me even though I get on your nerves."

He was breaking my heart at this point.

"Brett…"

"I know it isn't what you want, but the time I've spent with you has been the happiest of my life. I don't think I'll ever be this happy with anyone else, ever. The way we've been together has been better and more stable than I've ever had with a woman. Ever."

He sniffled. I handed him a tissue.

"Don't. I know when I'm not wanted," he said. "I just thought you were as happy as I was."

"It's not like that. I do like you and I have a good time with you," I said quietly. "I just want to be in love with a woman. I'd also like to be able to have sex with a woman and have kids with her one day. It doesn't mean that I won't have fond feelings for you."

"Really?" he asked sniffing again.

"Really."

"What if we could find a woman who would accept us both? We could stay married and she could live with us. We could share her."

"Ah, no. Usually if it's polygamy there is one man and multiple wives or sometimes one woman with several husbands. Usually there aren't two husbands and one wife, you know what I mean."

"But."

"I think you are confusing acceptance with love. You deserve real love. Besides, no matter how long we stay married, I'm not having sex with you."

"Never? I mean, I'd be open to trying. We might both really like it."

"There are some things in my life I'm pretty closed off about. Sex is one of those things."

"What if we had a woman with us the first time?" he asked sounding a little too hopeful.

"I don't think so. I don't share well. If you think I get territorial over a plate of brownies, that's nothing compared to how I get when a woman is involved."

"Oh. Yeah, I remember. You almost bit my hand when I tried to swipe some crumbs off your plate. And you were really ugly when I tried to get a bite of your strawberry shortcake."

"Yeah. I think you're a creative thinker though."

"There is some good news," he said.

"Lay it on me."

"My grandmother is getting well. They think she'll make a full recovery."

"That's fabulous."

"Yeah, but they think it was because she held out hope because I was in a stable relationship. The day we got married, she turned a corner and has made incredible progress ever since."

"Tell you what, we'll put some effort into finding you a really nice girl. One that can be your whole world, one who can really and truly complete you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Besides, there are a lot of women out there who think that if you're gay you're a bigger challenge and they work really hard to convert you."

"Cool. I could be converted."

"You never changed religions."

"You know what I mean."

"Let's go to bed. It's late and I'm tired."

"Do you think we can find a woman who likes Somewhere in Time?"

"Yeah, I think we probably can."

"I just don't want to be divorced. There's such a stigma with that, you know?" he said twisting the ring on his left hand.

"We could always have an annulment. Because on so many levels this marriage never did exist."

"No. I'd rather be divorced. I'm proud that I got to be married to a good and kind man. Not everyone is so lucky."

"Thanks Brett. That's a huge compliment. It's been eye opening to be married to you, too."

"Can we stay married a little longer? I know I need to disengage, but it's going to take me a while."

"No problem.

"Thanks. Hey, can we read Sahara by Clive Cussler next? I love the Dirk Pitt stories."

"No problem, buddy. I'll get it from the bookshelf while you're in the shower."

"Can you heat some water for hot chocolate, too?"

"No problem."

I'm really glad there was no debate about ending the marriage with Brett. He was actually handling things more calmly than I would have guessed. I think he's grown up some since this whole thing started.

~x~x~

Eighteen months later …

"Princess, do you want me to iron your shirt for you? I can't let you look slobby on our special day."

"Please. And since we haven't been married in over a year, can you quit calling me 'princess'?"

"Sure thing, pumpkin."

I shook my head, Brett loves terms of endearment and doesn't care who hears them. Someday, maybe, I'll adjust.

"Do you have everything you're going to need?" I asked repacking his luggage. I don't know how he can bring so much junk he doesn't need and forget the essentials all of the time.

"I'm good. Thanks for doing that," he said nodding to the bag on the bed. My own bag was already repacked and in the SUV down stairs.

"It's almost show time," I said. "You nervous?"

"Yeah, a lot more than last time. This time it's for the right reasons and it's real."

True. Very true.

We'd gone to Boston to see Larry and Darryl before we filed the formal divorce papers. We both felt that we owed them. They were both crushed that we weren't going to stay married and that we were going to start dating women. We were offered counseling, couple and individual, if we would just give it one more try. When that didn't work, they offered to help us meet men who would be better matches.

"No. I'm just not ready to date a man," I'd said with a smile. I don't think I'll ever want to date a man, but I now knew several matchmakers who were more than willing to help. "I don't think either of us are ready for that."

Because we had been open with them, Larry and Darryl offered us use of their home again for another wedding. A real one this time.

~x~x~

We headed down the stairs together, probably for the last time.

"Do you have your ring and your vows?" he asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"You ready to do this thing?"

"I think so. I do love you, Hal."

"I love you too, Brett. Let's go get married."

We went to the front of the garden and stood in front of Kevin; he'd become a mail order minister just for us. He'd found a naughty boy of his own and was happy chasing Ernie and Ernie was happy getting caught.

Music came over the speakers, the theme from Somewhere in Time. Two visions in white came out of the house and down the little aisle. Kathy had forgiven Brett for having been conflicted about me; they'd gotten serious and decided it really was love. Mindy, the woman Brett accused me of cheating on him with, was doing the long walk for me.

Both women liked the idea of Brett and me using our original wedding rings. I think Mindy liked the fact that mine would get stuck and probably wouldn't come off again without surgical intervention. Kathy liked the fact that Brett's ring had a mate in a woman's setting; no point in spending more money than necessary.

"Dearly beloved…"

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the Ultimate Debate as much as I did. See, nobody wound up wtih visible scaring and Brett even grew up some during the process. In my mind there's nothing like a good old-fashioned HEA. thanks for reading and reviewing.... Alf.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Note: This was written by my friends for my birthday. Evidently they have been visited by the Merry Men who all wanted a say in what happened, didn't happen in their own stories.**_

_**The authors you will likely recognize by voice, but by no other method as they refused to tell me who did what. The authors include (and may not be limited to): Adalind, Bluzkat, Deb WSF, Harmne, Katbaby, Kate Manoso, Magdalync, Redlamps, Robin, Spudmom, Steph, Tiina, Vicki. They have each played plot bunny on at least one occassion in the creation of this little story of mine/ours and all play with me on a very small board we call the Jell-O Pit.  
**_

**So you understand the inside jokes, some helpful defintions**

**Tart: one who prefers to write/read MM stories.**

**Santa: husband**

**Blondie: golden retriever mix**

_**This was the best present I have had in years, and I couldn't not share it. Each of them have given me permission to publish it here. I will forward all reviews/comments to them.**_

_**As always, thanks for reading. Alf.**_

**Alf's Ultimate Birthday **

**  
**_Happy Birthday, Alf! _

_From all us 'ladies' at Rangeman! For the past month this story has been making the rounds of the membership behind your back, growing as it was passed along. Multiple writers – nearly everyone, in fact – participated in the creation of this story but we're not naming any names…this way you don't know for sure who to blame!_

~*~*~

The evening was balmy and warm as it slipped into night, spring just around the corner. Everything was silent except for the mournful howl of a coyote in the distance.

"Would you shut up?" a voice hissed.

"I don't know any bird calls. And we're in Arizona, aren't we?" another voice whispered.

"But we're in the middle of the fricking city, you idiot."

"Sorry."

A duck's call rasped instead.

"Ranger," the first voice said. "I want to shoot him. Can I shoot him?"

"No. Now shut up. We're here."

Several shadowy shapes slipped around the corner of the building and paused in deeper shadows. The parking lot in front of them was nearly empty and sparsely lighted, which suited their purposes just fine.

"Everyone remember the plan?" Ranger's voice asked softly.

"Yeah, boss," came a reply. "But tell me again, how do we know she won't be missed?"

"Santa's out of town for a couple of days," Ranger explained patiently. "The other ladies know about her seminars and they won't be expecting her. We have nearly 48 hours clear."

"Who the heck came up with 'Santa' as a code name?"

"That's what SHE calls him."

"Get her laptop, okay, boss? I would, but if I dropped it she'll turn me into a butterfingers in her next story," Hal muttered.

"I'll get it," Ranger assured him, sounding amused. "Then I'll drop her car off at her house and meet you there."

"NO!" Lester sounded a little panicked. "You have to come with us. You're our authority figure. She won't do anything to you – but she might turn on us!"

"I thought she was a Tart!"

"Well, she is," Santos admitted, "But she begged Nic to write you in a scene… um, you know... ah, solo." He trailed off uncertainly.

"Oh, did she?"

The door of the building opened, and a lone woman came out carrying a laptop case and her purse. She scanned the lot before she moved away from the door and she had her keys ready in her hand. Ranger smiled. They liked a challenge.

They moved out fast and silent, and in short order Lisa was bound and gagged and wrapped in a dark green Army blanket, and stashed in the padded back of a black Bronco. Ranger handed her keychain to Brett. "Don't dawdle or you might miss your turn."

Hal took his position behind the wheel and laid rubber leaving the parking lot. Lester braced his hand on the dash and hissed, "This is supposed to be stealth, asswipe!"

Shrugging his shoulders, Hal said, "Just wanted to show Lisa I can be manly." He stabbed his finger at the stereo 'on' button, and the opening strains of 'Somewhere in Time' filled the Bronco. Just as quickly, he jabbed the button to shut the stereo back off. After clearing his throat, he said, "Brett used the car last."

From his position in the back, Ranger peered over the back of his seat and said to Lisa, "Comfy?"

"Mmmmfff!"

Ranger chuckled. "Do you have something to say?"

"Mfwth dho eeerdotowoo!"

"I'm sorry. I can't understand you."

"Mmmmfff!!!"

Ranger didn't feel any pity, but he was curious about what she had to say. Reaching back, he unwound the topmost portion of the wool blanket and removed the gag. "You were saying?"

Lisa narrowed her eyes at Ranger's face and said, "What did I ever do to you?!"

Ranger set his usually blank face into an expression of mock consideration. "Let's see. You as good as ripped my heart out of my chest in _Nothing But Time On My Hands_."

"I gave you an ending!"

"Don't think I don't know about the others. I don't like sharing, Lisa. You know that."

Lester cut in. "Hey, hey, hey! This isn't about you. I can see how you might think that, Mr. King of Janet Evanovich fan fiction. But it's not. This is about us. This is about _Ultimate Debate_."

"Am I not in that one?"

Lester snorted. "You're 'in the wind'."

"Again?!"

"Look. All due respect, but you've got nothing to bitch about. You get laid more than any other character in all of JE fan fiction, you get to do Steph in countless perverted ways, and your dick is the stuff of legends."

Ranger huffed out a sigh and looked back over the seat at their captive. He leaned down until his mouth was brushing the shell of her ear. He whispered, "This may be their show, but you and I have one small issue to discuss…later." He licked the edge of her ear lightly. He was pleased to see a shudder of pleasure course through her body, obvious even through the thick blanket. He murmured, "Not so immune to me after all…"

Thirty minutes later, the Bronco came to a stop next to a one story Spanish style stucco structure. Lester and Hal climbed out of the Bronco and walked over to the side of the house where a group of men were standing. Ranger went to the back, lifted the hatch and caught Lisa as she nearly rolled out onto the driveway. She let out an 'umph' as he slung her over his shoulder.

He walked over to the group of men and saw a few familiar faces. There seemed to be a bit of a disagreement.

Lester said, "I'm not saying you have to leave. I'm just saying we have some business to conduct tonight, and it doesn't concern you."

"The hell it doesn't," Xander shot back. "If I had any idea we were allowed to abduct and torture our authors, I'd have booked my intervention months ago!"

"Get in line," Hal bit out. "This is our show tonight. Go boink Cat or Nicole. Or Cat and Nicole. We have some justice to serve."

Xander's shoulders slumped. "Fine." He turned to the dozen or so men behind him and said, "Someone grab all the liquor out of the back of Cat's Range Rover. Meet us in the house. I think we might be able to talk the girls into playing strip Jenga!"

The men fell over each other in a mad dash to get into the house first.

~*~*~*~

Lisa fought her way out of the musty blanket—her hands seemed to be restrained somehow but her legs were working and she kicked free. And looked around. She was in her backyard on one of the lounge chairs by the pool. She blinked her eyes. The pool seemed---pink.

"Yeah. You turned it into a Jell-O pit, Alf---or should I call you _Lisa_? Did you really think an alias would protect you?"

Lisa turned her head and did another double take. Seated on the other lounge was a very hot young guy in black SWAT fatigues.

She asked, "Who are you?"

"Don't you know me? I'm Hal."

She gaped at the hottie. Sure he had a cute face but where was the chunky doofus she loved to torment?

"That's right, Lisa_. I_ am Hal."

"But…."

"Yeah, you had your laughs with me! Gave me a muffin top---snickered over my weight issues….You just had to tell the whole world that I was a few pounds over my fighting weight!"

She gulped. "I don't see any weight issues."

"You nearly wrecked my career at Rangeman. You think Ranger will employ a guy who has---love handles? I don't think so!"

No sense in apologizing. She asked, "Why are you here?"

"Payback time, bitch."

"Oh no. No no no no no."

"Oh yeah. And first off, for your enjoyment, I have a speed dating session planned for you."

"Um, Santa won't like that!"

"Santa will never know. Oh and FYI, Santa's not real happy with you either! It was okay when the girls thought that was his real name, like he was some hot Latino guy---but no, you had to tell the world he looked like Santa Claus! That don't do much for a guy's ego, babe."

Lisa cringed, and tried big tear-filled eyes and pouty lips! But the angry young stud who seemed to be her beloved Hal ignored her and yelled, "Hey! Manny, send in the first NNNM!"

_So that's where they went_, she mused as Juan paraded out in a Chippendale's costume, sans stupid bowtie. Sans stupid tuxedo pants, sans---everything!

Hal sat there laughing as she worked at her wrist restraints. The men of her dreams paraded by her---each hotter than the next, each stopping long enough to whisper sweet _Amada_s or _Cherie_s or _Alfie, baby_'s in her ear. Lisa writhed but couldn't touch and Hal laughed as she got hotter and bothered-er. More bothered, whatever.

When the guy in the white chaps slowly slithered close, then turned—oh that ass!--- Lisa started screaming….

And she suddenly woke up. _Oh thank God, I'm in my own house in my familiar bedroom, _she thought. Warm and safe, with dear Santa snuggled by her side. She stretched, thinking, _Whoa, that was some dream…_and then she realized the bed was---round. It was the Austin Powers bed from the B & B in Boston and the warm body close at her side was……

"Gabriel," she sighed. Lisa quickly ran through her ideas, outlines, and thoughts about Gabriel and gave him a smile. She hadn't tortured him, and he hadn't even been mentioned in her story _Ultimate Debate_.

"You're not part of this, are you."

His smile made her heart race. "Lisa, I'm just here because there was a bit of a," his smile turned a tad evil, "skirmish, shall we say, over who was going to 'visit' you first." Reaching out he traced her bottom lip with his thumb. "They didn't even notice when I slipped in the door."

She pulled back and licked her lip as she sat up against the headboard. "Can you sneak me out?"

He chuckled and rolled off the bed. As he looked down at her, he slowly shook his head. "Not going to happen, sweetheart." Taking a couple steps, he sat down in a chair, immediately slumping back and lacing his fingers over his defined abdomen. "Can't help, for more than one reason."

"Why?" Lisa whispered. She wondered if anyone had opened her laptop, read her unfinished stories, her throw away stories, her… secrets. She cleared her throat. "What did I ever to do to you that you won't help me?"

His jaw tightened in an anger that would have made an Italian proud. She watched as he struggled to push it back.

"That's the problem, Lisa. You introduced me to the ladies, got my hopes up. Even had one particular lady pretty damn excited about the story you'd write for me. Then, --" he blew out a breath and sat forward his hands dropping between his knees.

She pushed back into the headboard, wary of the look in his eyes.

"Some people call it being a tease, sweetheart, a game of push/pull. That's a game you're quite good at. I believe a word you're familiar with could easily be used here." He narrowed his eyes. "What is it you call yourself?" He snorted. "Oh, yes, a _tart_." He stood up and took a menacing step toward the bed. "I think you need a bit of push/pull yourself." He slipped a hand in his pocket and then paused. Turning his head toward the door, he listened for a second. He shook his head and turned back toward her. He leaned down, traced her jaw with his finger. Her breathing deepened, and she barely caught his whispered threat.

"Looks like they figured out who was going coming in first." Leaning down he added, "I'll be back if I can." He paused. "Or if there's anything left of you when they're finished."

Lisa closed her eyes, heard a door close. She opened her eyes hoping. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw…

"Manny?" Hope rose as she considered his story. Surely _he _wouldn't be upset at her treatment of him. He was the hottest MM she'd ever written, and she hadn't even finished it yet!

He was silent, studying her. The intensity of his stare made hope fade.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "Look, I can see why Hal's upset, even though it was all in fun. But why are _you _here? I haven't done anything like that to you!"

He stalked toward her, never breaking eye contact.

"Lisa." He stopped, inches from her, and fisted a hand in her hair, tilting her head to look up at him.

"I am not a man to be trifled with. More than anyone else, you know that. You know me."

He leaned slowly toward her, until she could feel the rasp of his stubble against her neck. He scraped her with his cheek until his mouth rested against her ear. "You _know _me."

At her tiny nod, he ravaged her lips with his own. As his left fist tugged harder on her hair, his right encircled her throat, tightening until she wasn't sure if the light-headedness she was feeling was from his kiss or from lack of oxygen.

As she started to tremble, he abruptly let her go and stepped back, taking in her ragged breathing. Fear? Desire? It didn't matter. Not for his purpose tonight.

He waited until she had herself in some semblance of control before continuing. "Ask yourself, Lisa. Am I a man who enjoys having his secrets exposed?"

She shook her head. "N..no," she whispered, her eyes wide.

His slow, feral smile made her heart beat a little faster. "Perhaps you are trainable after all. I can work with that."

He shot a brief glare toward the door. "Later, though. I've been instructed not to break you before the others have had their say."

Leaning in to her again, he whispered, "I can be patient when the situation calls for it. I think you'll find that anticipation can heighten… all kinds of sensations..."

Taking in her shiver, he kissed her again, gently, before he walked away.

Never looking back, he paused as he reached the door. "Soon," he promised.

Lisa closed her eyes, taking a moment to catch her breath. She braced herself for whatever came next as she heard the door open...

Lisa wanted to peek; she needed to know who was next. Whoever it was, they barely made a sound. There definitely was a presence, very close to her. As she felt the bed dip down, she opened her eyes to find Lester Santos smirking down at her.

"Well hell-o Beautiful." He held her hand in his as he settled next to her on the bed.

"Lester!" Lisa could hear the relief in her voice. She smiled. Lester would help her, she'd been more than good to him this summer. He even got to bed Stephanie while she was off sugar. Even Morelli couldn't handle her action when she was in that state!

"I hope the guys haven't been too rough with you," he said as he began rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

She let her head fall back onto a pillow and tried to relax. Lester leaned over and began stroking her hair. A soft sigh escaped her lips as some of the tension left her body.

"There, there. It's gonna be okay. Ranger's been trying to talk some of them down. Here, I brought you some water."

Lisa sat up and gratefully took the water bottle from him. She smiled and he rewarded her with his most sexy grin.

"Thank you."

He nodded. The bottle felt cool in her hand. She placed it against her forehead. Lester turned his attention to the round bed. _The_ round bed-- the one from _The Ultimate Debate. _

Lisa cringed. It was all in fun, she thought. Surely, Lester had been approached by other men before. Plus, he was the Rangeman resident jokester, he had a great sense of humor.

"Lisa, I have to say I'm disappointed in you. I thought we had an understanding, a partnership."

Lester rolled to his side and propped his head up on one arm. His lips were pursed into a pout as he stared at her with his beautiful green eyes. His biceps were straining against his black shirt.

"Les, it was just for fun. No harm was done."

"No harm?" He slowly shook his head. "I see now. You don't realize we have feelings too. You see us as just entertainment. And I can appreciate the initial joke, but did I really have to have an emotional breakdown at Rangeman? Don't you know me at all, or am I just another pretty face? Would it have killed you to write me a threesome with some hot babes?"

Lester looked so vulnerable; Lisa didn't know what to say to him. Her throat was dry. She tried to open the water but the cap was too tight. Lester reached over and opened it for her.

"I'm…I'm sorry Lester, you're right. You're more than just characters in a story." She took three large gulps from the bottle. She would make it up to him. Maybe Les could convince the others, to let her go now.

Lester stood up and smiled warmly at her. "Thanks Beautiful. I'm glad we understand each other." He glanced at his watch. "Hopefully we've used up enough time by now."

"Time? Time for what?"

"Oh, time for Ranger to read." Lester's tone had changed, and a mischievous grin stretched across his face.

"But, you said…I thought he was talking them down."

"Oh, he was considering it. Until…"

Lisa's heart began to race. "Until what?"

"I gave him a copy of _After Samhain_." Lester began walking backwards towards the door. His grin was even wider and his eyes were twinkling.

Lisa gasped. "But…"

"You may have given Ranger an ending, but Ram got a _sequel_."

"I thought…but you said…"

"Why Lisa," Lester chuckled. "I thought you'd appreciate some misdirection!"

Lisa collapsed onto the bed. She could hear Lester's laughter fade as he disappeared behind the door.

Lisa sat up gingerly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Rubbing her eyes she wondered how much more she could take. Slowly standing up, she made her way over to the bathroom. After shutting the door, she leaned up against it, closed her eyes and took a couple deep breaths.

Her thoughts were all jumbled, her nerves were shot, and her body... she sighed. Rubbing her face, she made her way over to the sink and turned on the water. Splashing some water on her face, she bit back a smile. She wasn't sure what her feelings should be right now, and for the moment she wasn't going to analyze it. Probably she'd wake up, find herself snuggled up against Blondie and have a drool puddle under her cheek.

As she turned back to the door, her hand flew to her mouth. She hadn't noticed the man standing by the window at first. It was too dark for her to determine who he was. She took a deep breath taking in his scent. It was - Male. That was the best way to describe it. Inching towards the door, hoping to get it open and maybe catch some light from the other room she stopped when she heard a voice.

"Lisa."

She swallowed. "Who, who are you?"

She could barely make out his shape but could tell he'd reached out a hand toward her.

"A friend." He took a step toward her and reached down to grab her hand. It was fisted, and he gently opened her fingers and placed something in it. Closing her hand around the object, he leaned in and placed his lips next to her ear. "Remember that when push comes to shove, they love you. Every one of them."

She fought the instinct to lean into him. There was something about him. Something that spoke of safety, security, and all of him was definitely sexy. She felt her brow wrinkle. "Are you staying?"

She felt him shake his head as he took a step back. "Just wanted to say thanks."

She looked down at what was in her hand, trying to determine in the dark what he'd given her. When she looked up to ask him, she watched as he disappeared through the open window. Carefully walking over to the window, she leaned out and saw the dark figure climbing down the trellis, then dropping to the ground.

For a moment she forgot the object in her hand and wondered if this could be her escape route. And did she want to escape. But this was Ranger and the Merry Men. They'd just find her again and bring her back to finish this. With a sigh of resignation, she reached up and slid the window shut, locking it tight. Turning, she made her way to the bathroom door, all the while gently caressing the object her friendly visitor had left her.

How he knew about Woody's story was a mystery, especially the detail of the stones. For whatever reason, he'd given her a gift. She looked back at the window and whispered,

"Thanks, Joe."

~x~x~

Lisa woke with a start. She must have nodded off as she was left waiting and wondering who her next visitor would be. The fog of sleep lifted as the gravity of her circumstance flooded back to her. How long had she been asleep, and more importantly, how was she going to get out of here? Had anyone even noticed she was missing yet? The thought struck her that even if the police were notified, they would wait the usual twenty-four hours before they started looking for her. By then, she could be locked away in a cabin in the jungles of a third world country. How the hell did this happen?

She felt around the bed. Her relief that she was alone in bed was quickly replaced with the horror that her jeans and tee shirt had been replaced by something silky and um…very ahem, skimpy on fabric. She lifted the covers to assess the damage. Yup, someone had removed her clothes and changed her into a silk teddy. Sudden panic struck her. She felt down her leg. Thank God!! She breathed a sigh of relief. Yesss, her legs were still stubble-free. Playing sex slave for a group of hot mercs was one thing. Unshaven legs would have been completely unforgivable, not to mention totally humiliating. This thought was followed quickly by a silent prayer of thanks that she hadn't opted this morning for the granny underwear that she usually wore when she was writing or working around the house. _Hey, don't judge, they're comfortable. You try sitting at the computer for hours at a time with the string from a thong up your butt._

Her eyes scanned the room, peering into its corners. The sporadic flares of muted light from passing cars filtered through the semi-closed curtains. She was definitely not alone. In the far corner she spied the outline of someone sitting in a chair. She drew the blanket up over her chest.

"H-h-hello?"

Nothing.

Gathering her courage, Lisa tried again, managing to keep the nervousness she felt out of her voice "Hello, who's there?"

Nothing.

"Answer me, damn it."

Still nothing.

"Look, I know you're there, I can you see sitting in that chair in the corner."

She strained to hear over the sound of blood pounding in her ears. Her name was spoken in a long, drawn out whisper, "Liissssaa."

With bravado she didn't feel, she challenged the mystery man. "This isn't funny. Show yourself. Are you a Merry Man or a mouse?" Yes, years later some would argue that Lisa was very, very courageous. Others would recall her as being very, very foolish to taunt one of her unknown assailants with such blatant disregard for her own personal well-being.

"Lisa, Lisa, Lisa." There was a rustle of fabric as the slight figure leaned forward but still kept his face bathed in shadow. "What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?"

"Okay, fine, I admit it, you're scaring the hell out of me here. W-who…who are you and what do you want w-w-with me?" She wracked her brain trying to figure out which Merry Man sounded like Don Corleone from the Godfather.

"You have done me a great disservice, Lisa." She grudgingly admitted to herself that, yes, indeed, though over the top, it was still a passable imitation of the Godfather himself. She mentally shook her head. What a Drama Queen. Then, recognition hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Hector? Is that you? It sounds like you have cotton in your mouth."

Lisa watched in bewilderment as he leaned closer. She still couldn't make out his features, but she was confident it was him. She suppressed a snicker as she watched Hector withdraw wads of cotton from his mouth, spitting out the threads that stuck to his tongue.

"You know, Ms. Evanovich thought it would be good for a laugh to make me the token gay man in her books. There was no serious character development, just passing comments on my sexuality for comic relief. Ha, ha. _Very funny_. But I took care of her, Lisa. And I ask you…now who's laughing?" Lisa was no fool. She knew what 'took care of' meant to someone who had two teardrops tattooed on his face.

A chill ran down Lisa's spine as fear swept over her, but her insatiable curiosity for all the gory details overrode her common sense to keep her bloody mouth shut. "W-w-what did you do to her?"

"I am not by nature a superstitious man, but let's just say that her granddaughter's pony befell an unfortunate accident."

Lisa drew in a gasped breath. _No, no, no, no, no. __This could not be happening._

"Oh yes, I think Ms. Evanovich got the message _loud and clear_ when she awoke the next morning to find Peachy's blue eyes staring back at her."

"Peachy?"

"_Sí_, Pea-chy."

"Nope, still not getting it."

"Lisa, what kind of little girl were you? Everyone knows Peeea-chy."

Lisa stared back at Hector with a blank expression.

Hector sighed. Shaking his head he said, "Peachy? My Pretty Pony, Pink Version Two, manufactured by Hasbro. Identical to Pink Version One, except that, in addition to the white blaze on her nose, she had white foreleg accents. Oh, and she had the cutest little cowboy hat."

"A collector's item," he added wistfully.

Lisa stifled a giggle. Lisa did not giggle. She was not a giggler. She would not giggle. She cleared her throat and asked, "So, this Peachy. She was sitting on the pillow next to Janet?"

"Well, not all of Peachy was there, if you get my meaning. Let's just say that Ms. Evanovich quickly learned that I am not someone to trifle with, hmmm?"

Lisa covered her desire to snort. It was hard to feign horror when a grown man just recited the marketing details of a child's toy…a little girl's toy. She wondered how many of the toys he currently owned.

"Ah, but, Chiquita, you disappointed me. I had such high hopes when you burst on the fan fiction scene last year. You were a new face to the Plumverse. A welcome breath of fresh air, so to speak. Before you, it was Ranger this…Morelli that…Babe, Cupcake…blah, blah, blah. The rest of us Merry Men were destined to forever play the role of sidekicks to those alpha dorks. Yes, there was the rare Merry Man fan fiction that surfaced, but those stories were never talked about in polite Yahoo forum chats and the stories were relegated to the dark annals of the Plum fandom known as…the Restricted Section. Yes, I continued to be cast as the token gay Merry Man in mainstream fan fiction but at least I had _that_. Then you came along and screwed everything up with _Stephanie's Gamble_."

Hector paused to light a cigarette, extinguishing the match with a slow fanning motion. He took a long drag off the cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly as he rose from the chair and leaned against the wall watching her.

Lisa huffed. He was trying to crank up the angst. Ha! She could wait him out. She waited out Ram in _After Samhain_, she could wait out this little drama queen. She was a patient woman, not prone to impulsive behavior. Nope, she wouldn't ask.

Oh crap…

"Okay, you lost me at 'dark annals', Hector."

"You took from me, Chiquita, and this is something that is unforgivable."

"What the hell? Hey, Mister, I made you famous. With _Stephanie's Gamble_ I had women drooling over you, demanding more. Diehard Babes were suddenly begging for a Hector ending -- which you got by the way!"

"Hmmm, yes, a conundrum. You gave me fame. You gave me machismo. I was just growing into the role you cast me, when nothing! I was relegated to the shadows again. I became one of the faceless Merry Man minions. You, Lisa, showed everyone just how disposable I was as you worked your way through every Rangeman in Trenton. You used me, and then tossed me aside. At least with Evanovich people knew who I was. I was a contender. I was '_Hector, the gay Merry Man'._"

Hector plowed on. "You stole this one thing from me with your story, leaving me open to a sexual crisis of epic proportions. Hell, even I started questioning my own sexuality."

"What can I do to make this up to you?"

"I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse, Lisa. In return for my assistance out of this most unfortunate…ahem…situation, you will write something that has been sorely missing from this fandom…"

"Ummm, westerns?"

"Slash, Lisa, slash! I want a story with Ranger as my love interest. Oh – and this is non-negotiable – send Stephanie in 'the wind' for a change."

"B-b-but everyone knows that Ranger's not gay. It'll never fly, Hector." Images of the angry mob scene from _Frankenstein_ played her head. There would be lynch mobs of Babes, surrounding her house and flooding her email with scathing reviews. This would be akin to flushing her own reputation as a writer. Sure, she had the _cajones_ to write outside of the Babe Box, but Lisa was no fool.

Hector chuckled. "Lisa, Lisa, Lisa you are such an innocent. Free your mind. You've done it before. You can do it again."

Lisa raised an eyebrow at Hector. Oh cool, she did it just like Ranger! Before she could savor the sweetness of the victory, Hector cut off her thoughts.

"Ranger is _muy caliente_– enough for the ladies and for gentlemen of discerning taste, in other words, me."

"So, you're saying that Ranger is bi?" Lisa shook her head. "I don't know…"

"_Sí_, bi-sexual. I'm thinking you could even have a _ménage a trois_ in the story."

"No, I'm sorry, Hector, but I just can't put you and Ranger in a threesome with Stephanie. I don't think I could write her that way. What if Santa reads it? It would just give him ideas. No one wants to go there."

"Stephanie? Lisa, you have not been listening, have you? No ladies."

"No, ladies…what, then…OH! Ohhhhhh!"

Hector nodded. She was finally beginning to understand.

"Okay, Hector, but a threesome? Isn't that a bit greedy? I mean, you want Ranger AND another man?"

"You say 'greedy.' I say 'satisfying.' Potato, potahto."

Lisa realized that the clock was ticking. The other Merry Men could be back at any time. If she wanted to get out of there, she needed to close the deal and fast.

"Okay, Hector. So, if I write you with Ranger – and possibly another Merry Man – you help me escape?"

"Bottom line, Chiquita, I want serious slash. I see me, Ranger and one of the hot Merry Men – and he better be hot, I don't want to wake up beside Fernandez." Hector shuddered at the thought.

"Hector, you know I'll do my best, but you know I don't really write smut. Don't get your hopes raised too high."

"Please, Lisa, you wound me. You don't think I know what you've been up to?"

"Up to?"

Hector coughed. It sounded a lot like "Manny."

Lisa's eyes grew wide. How did he know about Manny?

"Oh, yes, I know many things, Chiquita. I know what you have sitting on your hard drive even as we speak. Does Santa know what you've been up to?"

Crap. Okay, he had her. Lisa had dipped a toe into the smut pond, and once having felt the cool water of erotica lap her toes, there was no going back.

"Fine! I'll write slash with you and Ranger. Now, get me the hell out of here."

"Multi-chapter. None of this one-shot nonsense or, heaven forbid, a drabble."

"Okay, Hector. You and Ranger. Multi-chapter. I'll even work in a threesome. Any preference?"

"Ah, _sí_, Lester."

Hector's smile fell as they heard a throat clear in the opposite corner of the room. Oops, he'd forgotten one tiny detail. This escape was a two man operation. He had brought along backup.

Lester stepped out of the shadows. "I don't think so."

Lisa pulled the blanket up around her neck. She didn't want to give Lester any ideas. "L-L-Lester, what a surprise. I thought you left."

Lester waggled his eyebrows.

"So, ummm, no threesomes, huh?" she squeaked out.

"Oh, I don't care if you write a threesome. Just not with me. You can use another one of the guys – say, Brett."

"I could use Brett." Lisa nodded furiously.

"Brett would work for me," Hector added. "He had all that _practice_ up in Boston. Brett's good."

Lisa attempted to conclude negotiations. "So, we're agreed, then? If you could just toss me a shirt or something, we can get out of here."

"Not so fast, Beautiful," said Lester. He hitched a pant leg up and sat on the side of the bed.

"Huh?" Lisa and Hector responded in stereo.

"There's still the little matter of how you wounded me."

"Wounded? How were you wounded? I made you a Sex God. Prince Lester Bear. You had a mini-series, a book deal and seminars. I personally dragged Bluzkat from the bowels of fan fiction Lurkdom to honor you."

"Used, abused and discarded. You built the anticipation, the want and the desire. You gave the ladies a glimmer into what could be. Gave me the future I was born to live. Then – nada. You cast me aside for all the Lester wannabes."

"I hear you, man. I hear you." Hector commiserated, sitting on the other side of the bed.

The bed was king-sized, but it was feeling smaller and smaller to Lisa. And did someone turn up the heat in the room?

"Guys, come on, I'm a Tart. It's what I _**do**_. I took a pledge and everything."

"Yes, but we're mercs, Lisa, opportunists by nature. We're in the Revenge Business. That's what _**we**_ do."

Lisa sighed. "Okay, Lester, what do you want? Who do you want me to write you with?"

"I'm happy being the Pope of Love. You can play with your lesser Merry Men. I will always be Lester Santos: The Man. The Myth. The Legend."

Lisa could see him capitalizing the words in his own mind.

"Okay then, we're good?" Lisa scooted down the other end of the bed, preparing to climb down and find some clothes. "So, we can leave?"

"Not so fast. I _said_ I don't need another story. My genius will live on in other ways."

"Other ways?" This didn't sound promising. Lisa knew Lester better than any of the other Merry Men. He was after all, her first.

"I've developed a new line of products. I want you to be the spokeswoman."

"A new product line?"

"Yes. One that captures my genius and spreads the wisdom of The Great Santos out across the globe."

Lisa sighed; again with the capitals. "We're talking tee shirts, aren't we Lester?"

"Not just tee shirts, but shorts, boxers and thongs, too. Of course, I'll do the usual mugs and hats, as well. Have to have variety. Here, I have a sample with me."

Lisa took the scrap of cloth that Lester pulled from his pocket. It read, 'You have a crush on me' in pink thread.

"And I would…?"

"Model the merchandise."

"Model a thong? Umm, I don't think so."

"All right with me. You want to stay here and take your chances with the boys, it's up to you. "

"Okay, fine! I'll model your damn thongs. Just get me out of here."

Lester reached in his other pocket, and pulled Lisa toward him. He tore the blanket from her hands.

"Eeek!" she screamed, trying to squirm away from him.

"Shhh!" said Hector as he headed for the window.

"Stand still," Lester said as he pulled a tee shirt over her head. She looked down and read 'Lester is a Sex God.' Lovely.

"Let's go. I think someone heard you."

Hector had the window open and was scanning the area. "Okay, coast is clear. I'll go first. You help her out."

Hector stepped out onto the ladder they had propped up against the side of the house, and made his way down.

Lisa stepped out onto the first rung and froze. They heard voices coming toward the room.

"Go! Go! Go!" Lester said in a stage whisper. The voices were getting closer.

Lisa scrambled down the ladder. As she reached the bottom, two hands reached out to help her to the ground. She turned around smiling. "Than – ks…"

Her words cut off as she looked up into the face of Tank.

"Aw, come on, Tank. Not you, too? What did I ever do to you?"

"Oh, Little Girl, don't get me started."

Tank threw her over his shoulder and started back toward the house. Hector followed with his head down, shaking it from side to side. He had been _this_ close to Ranger slash. _This close!_ Sometimes life just wasn't fair.

She was carried around the pool and dropped gently into a padded chair. What seemed like an awful lot of men were gathered in the yard, sitting in a semi-circle in lawn chairs facing her…as if waiting for a show to begin. This didn't look good for her. This could be bad!

Ranger stepped forward from the group, bringing the chatter among the men to a halt. He stalked slowly across the pit toward Lisa and he watched as her eyes widened and her knuckles turned white on the arms of her lawn chair.

He stopped directly in front of her and stood, legs braced apart. His package was directly at Lisa's eye level and Ranger had to clear his throat to break her trance. In a low voice, he said, "I understand that you requested, or should I say **begged** Nicole to write a scene with me performing…solo."

Lisa squeaked out a sound and cast her eyes down, pausing a moment on his crotch before falling to the ground. Not a sound could be heard around the pit.

"Look at me, _cara_."

Lisa hesitantly raised her eyes and was stunned to see Ranger casually stroking his lengthening cock beneath his cargos. "I shouldn't do this for you…you've been a very naughty girl neglecting me as you have…but it is your birthday. Never let it be said that I can't give a woman everything she wants…sexually."

He slowly raised his hands to the buckle of his utility belt, and with a clatter, it fell to the packed earth beneath him. Suddenly, there was the sound in the distance of a sliding glass door being opened and a dozen women pushed and shoved their way through, then ran across the lawn. Robin and Nicole fought fiercely for the last remaining lawn chair, with hair pulling and nail gouging. Disgusted, Katbaby offered her chair to Robin and went to go stand by Graham.

Once the crowd settled, Ranger captured Lisa's eyes and gracefully peeled off his tight fitting black shirt. He raised his hands to his own chest and naughtily plucked and pinched at his flat copper nipples until they were hard and tight. He let out a sexy hiss. He left one hand to play with the hard nub while the other hand slowly glided down to his well defined eight-pack. A crash was heard, and Hal stood up and righted Melody where she had tipped over in her chair attempting to get a better angle for viewing.

Lisa never turned to see what the noise was about. Her eyes were focused on Ranger's huge erection pulsing in front of her, begging to be released. Her breath was uneven and her face and chest were flushed.

The hand that had been toying with his nipple dropped down to stroke his balls roughly through his pants. The index finger on his other hand trailed along the line of silky black hair that arrowed down from his navel and disappeared into the cargos.

He whispered, "Release my cock, Lisa."

With a shaky hand, Lisa grasped the tab of his zipper and began slowly lowering it. Ranger leaned forward and grasped her other hand and forced her to cup his hot, tight sac between his muscular thighs.

Ranger's considerable length sprung out and there was a collective gasp from the group could that could be heard for miles. Several women could be seen licking their lips while others were busily wiping tears from their eyes.

Lisa went to grab at his length, but Ranger stepped back and said, "No, Babe. You requested a solo performance. Just sit back. This might take a while."

He shoved his pants down to mid thigh.

Cat squealed, "Good Christ, check out the arse on him!"

Ranger looked down at his glistening cock and encircled it at the base. Then he wrapped his other hand above it. There were still several inches untouched.

He had just began his first upward stroke when Lester raced across the lawn yelling, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!"

Ranger froze and glared at Santos. Lester stepped up beside Ranger attempting to keep his eyes 'above board'. He leaned towards Ranger's ear and began whispering. As he whispered, Ranger's eyes went from sinfully black, to blank…and then enraged. Lester stepped away from Ranger, turned to Lisa, stuck out his tongue at her, and then went to return to his post next to Hal.

In a no-nonsense manner, Ranger tucked his considerable erection back into his cargos and carefully closed his zipper.

Lisa whispered, "What…why?"

Ranger impaled her with a hard look. "I know about your Manny story."

"Um…er…"

"You think that after hearing about what you're planning to do with me in his story, I should reward you with _this_?" He emphasized the word 'this' by grabbing his cock through his pants.

"But-"

Ranger hissed out, "No buts, Lisa." He turned to the other ladies of the group and said, "I need help with a big problem, ladies. Any takers?"

The women sprung up en masse and collectively pushed Ranger into the house to take care of his problem. Repeatedly.

There was a moment of absolute silence.

Then a low, rich laugh rolled out, raising goose-bumps on Lisa's skin.

"_Su pérdida es nuestro aumento, amigos_," Manny said. "His loss is our gain. What do you think, boys? Pool or bed first?"

"I vote for the bed!" called Juan and Ram simultaneously.

"Yeah, otherwise the Jell-o gets the sheets all sticky," Hal explained.

Manny nodded. "Fine with me." He stepped in front of Lisa and before she realized his intention, he stripped the shirt off her and dropped it into the pool. "You won't be needing that. Okay, boys, I've got her – go get your toys. And don't forget to take a number! Room three."

Once more Lisa found herself draped over a broad shoulder. She watched Manny's butt as she was carried in through a door and down a hall. They passed a closed door where much squealing could be heard. Just as she reached down to grab a cheek she found herself sailing through the air to land with a bounce on a huge, firm bed.

She glanced around quickly. When had this room been added? She hadn't been in here before. The room was large, the walls a deep crimson. The bed was king-size and then some. There were sturdy posts at each of the four corners of the bed but no headboard or footboard – and no covers except for the soft fur beneath her.

The bed was in the center of the room, she realized, and a NNNM was stepping up to each corner. Wait, who was the short _built_ man with shoulder-length blonde curls? And that really tall guy was only vaguely familiar.

A blindfold descended, cutting off her vision. She reached for it but found her hands caught and held. Feeling a hand on her ankle she tried to roll, and bumped up against warm hard skin.

"Don't worry, honey, we promise not to break anything," said a voice on her right. From her left side came another.

"_Relájese y goce…" _

~x~x~

Lisa gasped as her eyes flew open and she bolted up right in bed. Blondie lifted her head and blinked slowly at her. Her eyes roamed around the room and her ragged breathing eased as she realized that she was safely tucked in her bed. It had really all just been a dream. Or a nightmare. With a shaky hand, she reached over and grabbed the phone from the nightstand, dialing a number known by heart.

"Thank you for calling Homestead, Charlotte. This is Katie. How can I help you?"

"I don't think Brett and Hal can stay married and writing Manny was a bad idea."

"Slow down Lisa," Katie said with a laugh. "I love what you are doing with Hal and Brett. You can't stop there! And Manny is a mystery that has to be solved. I don't think that there is a single story out there about him."

Lisa smiled at the praise she was receiving, grateful that she was getting it in the first place. "Have you ever worried about revenge?"

"Look at Silvio. Most of the Merry Men are lucky if they can walk away from me."

Lisa knew that Katie had a good point and felt slightly better about the dream. After all, none of them had major mental issues after they assisted her with writing a story. Bruised egos aside… But still. They had it easy with her compared to other writers. At least she kept beer and condoms stocked at the house for when one of the Merry Men stayed over.

"You okay?" Katie asked after Lisa fell silent.

"Yeah," Lisa said with a small smile. "I just had a bad dream where Hal, Brett, and Ranger kidnapped me for revenge after what I've done to Hal and Brett. Then some of the other guys showed up and tried to strike a bargain for my freedom."

"If they ever came knocking on my door, Achilles would just beat the L M N O out of them."

Lisa laughed. "Thanks for bringing me back to my sanity."

"I didn't bring you back to your sanity. I just showed you the path. I prefer to stay insane, thank you very much. Go back to bed."

"Night, Katie."

"Night, Babe."

Lisa sighed as she disconnected the call and lay back down in her bed. Blondie cuddled back up her and licked her cheek before settling down. She chewed on her lip lightly as she went back over the dream again. A small smile tilted up her lips.

Happy Birthday, Alf!

* * *

So, the next time you think it is safe to write Merry Men stories or you think the Karma Fairy won't come visit you, be warned. If my friends could do this to me ... you get the idea.

Thanks to all who read and reviewed ... your reviews will be forwarded to the writers! Alf (who denies getting any older with her birthday, just better looking)


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